occupational hazards
by raffinit
Summary: Emily has been in the BAU for about six months, closer to a year. She's fit in nicely, despite some initial tension between her and Hotch and the rest of the team. Emily helped Hotch settle into the life of a single dad, and this is the first time Hotch gets to understand why.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a psychological experiment I was somehow coerced into doing. I'm supposed to write both _Moon that breaks the night _and _Occupational Hazards _to see how I cope with something so morbid and dark and balance it with something lighters, 'fluffier'. It was either this or medication, so I told my counselor I'd do this instead.**

**She checks in every once and a while, and she'll be reading through these every other time. So no matter what you people say about this fic (again and again and again) I'm not going to stop it. Because then I wouldn't be able to get the Okay for my Service Learning credits.**

**So there. **

* * *

"_Mama."_

The weepy little voice had Emily up and off her seat on the couch in an instant; frowning in concern as she saw the little girl in a military tank top one size too big for her scrawny frame and shorts that bared her knobbly knees and bumps and bruises of a clumsy childhood. She was pouting crankily, pools of tears threatening to spill as she held up her left arm - the arm wrapped in a bright green cast from elbow to wrist.

The strap of her tank top drooped as she pouted harder at Emily and thrust out her bad arm. "Itchy!"

"Oh, sweetheart," Emily crooned in sympathy, scooping the girl into her arms and holding her gently as the little girl sniffled miserably into her neck. The girl was no older than five, six perhaps, with long pale limbs and wide eyes that were framed with almost prosthetically thick dark lashes. Her wide eyes and lank was obviously from her mother, as with her dark, dark hair that fell thick and spooling down her back.

Her mother, as you would have already deduced, was in fact the woman holding her. Held so tightly; pressed so close to her maker - there was no question whatsoever that Emily Prentiss had much say in the little girl's conception.

The only real difference between Emily and her child, was their eye color.

Where Emily's eyes were a deep, expressive brown, Chloe took both her parents' colors - one eye was the rich brown of Emily, and the other her Papa's vibrant blue.

Presently those peculiar eyes stared up at her mother's pretty face as Emily reached out to brush her hair behind an ear and placed a loving kiss to her forehead there.

Perhaps now at this point, you were wondering what was this girl's name, and what be of the left arm she'd broken that would eventually heal. Well, the answers were rather quite simple, actually.

Chloe Isabelle Prentiss liked to believe she was a human made of unbreakable steel. Tall trees and rickety chairs were no challenge to the girl. Unfortunately her grandmother's antique dressing table begged to differ - in a rather violent collapse.

Chloe broke its fall. In gratitude, it broke her arm.

Emily was merely glad the dresser hadn't somehow chosen to express its thanks in a hug.

"My poor baby," she crooned at Chloe, stroking the girl's hair and back like she used to when her baby was still a rather disobedient, constantly-hungry infant. But the baby was now a child; one even more so disobedient with a hunger worthy of a wildebeest. "Only another week until you take it off, sweetheart. I promise."

The young girl sniffled petulant, but seemed to accept her mother's placating. There wasn't much she could do otherwise - it wasn't as if she could take the thick papier mache of medical cast off her arm by herself. She'd tried.

Chloe pouted. "I wanna go play outside."

Emily tutted at her daughter, running her fingers through her hair idly. "It's too cold out, _ma chère. _And you know the doctor said to let it heal for another week before you start rough and tumbling all over again," she reminded the girl, but Chloe squirmed restlessly in her lap. There was never a time in the girl's short life that she'd been able to sit still for very long; Emily liked to blame it on her father's side of the family - _she _liked sitting in and reading when she was young.

"You said that last week," the girl whined, and wriggled until she could stare up at her mother's face in distress. Wide-eyed and pouting, lower lip quivering as she beseeched the woman with her sad, expressive face to release her into the open air for but an hour or so. "Mama, please? Pretty, pretty please?" Her lower lip trembled harder; tears gleamed in her eyes. "I promise I won't fight nobody, and I'll - I'll sit with you and I won't even go nowhere near the sand!"

Chloe then sighed in defeat, sagging in her mother's lap, staring down forlornly at Emily's shirt. "I just wanna go outside," she mumbled miserably, and promptly curled into a ball of resigned sadness achieved only by children.

It had been a little over a week since she'd been to the park, or anywhere Emily thought she might jostle her arm; she couldn't even go to school for the week because Mama was so afraid she'd break something else. It couldn't be helped - no matter how much Emily wanted to assure herself that Chloe was fine and that things were okay, she was still the woman's only child and she was still as terrified as she was the day she brought Chloe home from the hospital.

But seeing such dejected sadness on her daughter's face made Emily's heart clench in her chest, and guilt fill the space inside it. She had been keeping Chloe cooped up inside for her own selfish anxieties, placating the girl's ever-present restlessness with movies and arts and crafts and little games and distractions that the girl had eventually and inevitably grown weary of.

Honestly Emily was surprised she'd lasted as long as she had.

Perhaps Chloe hadn't broken just her arm that day; but the MRIs had shown clean and healthy brain activity.

Still it wasn't fair, and Emily knew she was putting her child through an unnecessary misery.

And so she knew amends were to be made.

"Baby," she soothed the girl gently, stroking her hair and pulling her close into a cuddle. Emily wrapped her arms tight around Chloe's lanky frame, tucking her feet in with her and rocking slightly on the couch as Chloe continued to pout. "I'm sorry I haven't been fun, I was just worried." She pressed a kiss to the back of Chloe's head and pressed her cheek there. "Tell you what; why don't you and I grab some of the bread Papa left out that's stale and hard and we'll go to the park and feed the duckies for a little bit?"

Emily smiled down at the girl when Chloe's eyes lit up hopefully; the heterochromic shades gleaming in the lighting of the day. "You like that?" She laughed when Chloe's head bobbed vigorously at her, chuckling breathlessly as Chloe's knee dug into her stomach from her excitement.

"Alright then, missy - grab your coat and bundle up and we'll go!"

* * *

Light and happy giggles danced in the autumn breeze, high and clear and unburdened as the girl in jeans and an oversized sweater jacket ran along the lake side, chasing pigeons and squirrels away. She slowed to a walk, ambling and uncoordinated in the way of a dreamer; plopping down onto the grass by the lake and peering up and out for her mother. Dark hair danced and spooled around her shoulders and sweater, kept in place in the two pigtails her mother had wrestled her into.

Curls were from her father's side of the family, and unruly they were by nature, if not purely to antagonize her mother.

"Mama, come sit here!" She waved at Emily eagerly, patting the ground beside her; it was a perfect distance from the lake and in excellent aim of the group of ducks beginning to gather curiously at her yelling. Experience told them it was nearing dinner time, and soon the lake was alive with quacks and squawks of a free meal.

The girl was wriggling in her seat at the sheer amount of ducks and geese now at the water's edge. Emily settled down beside her, eyeing the group of rather hostile looking foul warily; she wasn't a fan of the ducks and geese together. Alone, the ducks were mostly harmless and docile creatures, but when paired with the large, demanding brutes so innocent regal and elegant looking - Emily preferred them on a platter and not within reach of her alive.

"Honey, don't get too close, okay?" she warned the girl, but Chloe was already digging through the paper bag of bread to throw at them. Fear was a rather unknown concept to Chloe; she knew never to speak to strangers and to always hold Mama and Papa's hands when crossing the street, but other than the basic Stranger Danger issues she and Clyde had drilled into her since young, Chloe had very little reservations about her approach to life.

Hence, the broken arm.

"They're not mean, Mama; they're hungry birdies," Chloe told her mother simply, and began throwing the bread pieces into the lake for the ducks to eat. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, in Emily's point of view), Chloe was also a rather violent child, and the ducks were wise to shy away at a further distance to enjoy their meal lest they were to fall victim to her rather impressive right arm throw. Chloe let out a gasping giggle of delight when one piece of bread hit a goose on the beak. "You shouldna stole their bread, goose-face!"

Emily rolled her eyes to the heavens, unable to help the wry twitch of her mouth as she prayed under her breath that one day her child would learn to fear things and to also stop throwing bread at ducks with the intention of scaring them. But for now, she wrapped her hands around Chloe's narrow waist and kept her on dry land as she watched in amusement while the girl scared off the geese and startled the rest of the lake's inhabitants.

It wasn't too cold of a day; not damp and not biting, a pretty autumn day perfect for a day out, and Emily sighed quietly in contentment as she heard Chloe giggling amidst the loud quacks and honking of the lake foul. She smiled fondly, jostling Chloe gently with her hands wrapped around her narrow waist, smiling wider when her daughter turned to peer down at her with a toothy grin. It was nice to be outside, just the two of them; work hadn't been kind and time hadn't permitted her much time to spend with her child, and though she often found herself lamenting this more as of late, Emily knew she had no one to blame but herself.

There were monsters to hunt down and put away - all so they would never think to lay their hands on her child ever.

"_Prentiss?"_

The name, conditioned as she was to respond to it, made Emily jolt; whirling in surprise at the low baritone and pulling Chloe closer to her protectively. Her dark eyes found him effortlessly; obvious as he was, standing there five feet away from her, dressed down in a pair of old jeans and a henley sweater the shade of deep navy. He was peering at her curiously, surprise clear on his face but not unwelcome as he shifted his grip on the little boy at his side. The boy was young, barely out of his toddler years, and bearing a striking resemblance to the man holding him. Though his hair was fairer by a touch, and his smile sweet; his dark eyes and adorable dimples that peeked through his chubby cheeks were clearly those of his father.

Emily smiled politely at the man, eyes warm as she regarded the babbling boy. "Hotch," she greeted him, pushing herself to her feet and grasping Chloe's hand in hers as they faced the man. "What are you doing here?"

Hotch smiled slightly in greeting, glancing at the girl still throwing bread pieces at the ducks before smiling fully at the woman holding her hand. It was a surprise, of course, but the man found himself to be _pleasantly _surprised at her presence - and perhaps a little curiously so at the child she was holding. So he squeezed his son's hand, lifting the boy into his arms as Jack stared with childlike wonder at the girl who was scaring all the ducks with her food. "We came out for a walk," Hotch said, bouncing Jack slightly in his arms. The boy giggled, and Emily nearly found herself doing the same when a pair of matching dimples appeared on their cheeks.

"Jack likes to come see the ducks sometimes," he told her, smiling wider now in amusement as the girl Emily held in her arms finally tore her attention away to stare up at him. "It seems that someone else likes the ducks too."

Emily beamed at the boy, already in love with his sandy hair and miniature dimples; waving at him slightly. "Well hello there, Captain Jack." She grinned wider when the boy giggled - oblivious to the way his father's eyes darkened and flashed at her beatific grin and dimples. "Did you come over to feed the duckies too?"

Young Jack nodded his head vigorously, flapping an arm at the ducks as his father kept him in his arms and away from the feathered machines of feces and beaks. "Duck!" he cried eagerly, flailing in his father's arms until Hotch lowered him onto his feet. Jack wobbled precariously for a moment, finding his footing, before he lunged forward towards the ducks.

"Whoa there, mister!" Emily bent down, catching him with her knee as she bent down to stop him. She flashed Hotch a flustered, amused smile, frowning at the boy mock-seriously as she shook her head. "You can't get too close okay? It's not safe, and the duckies might run away."

Chloe peered curiously at the boy, tilting her head and observing them as she had with the ducks and geese - for this too was a creature quite unfamiliar to her. She glanced from the boy's chubby cheeks and toothy grin up to the tall man in front of them, tilting her head further to avoid the glare of the sunlight behind him.

Hotch looked down at Chloe, smiling warmly at the girl that looked startlingly like the woman holding his son; her bright eyes that probed into his face with a curious intensity. "Hello." He crouched down, flashing her a dimple as she continued to stare mutely. "What's your name?"

Her peculiar eyes trailed his face, as if committing it to memory, before she opened her mouth in a breath to speak. "Chloe," she said, and then thrust out her cast-covered arm at him proudly. "Look!"

Hotch raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to avoid a cast to the face; glancing at Emily for an explanation, but found that his son was too busy fussing in her arms for her to notice. And so he indulged the girl, taking her bright green cast in his hand gently and examining the cast covered in childlike drawings and scribbles. In one corner, he recognized Emily's handwriting. "What happened?" he asked her, tilting his head to read the words better.

"I broked it!" she told him proudly, puffing her chest out as if a broken limb was a medal of honor. "I climbeded the place Mama said I wasn't supposed to, and Mimi's table don't like climbing." She grinned, and Hotch knew then that she was definitely a Prentiss child. There was no denying her dark lashes and pretty mouth. She frowned then, lifting the broken arm in disappointment; her limb that failed her.

"Then my arm go to bed and I fell down."

Hotch stared. "You fell off of a table?"

Chloe nodded, pride clear on her face still. "I fall down, then Mimi's table fall down too, and then Mama scream like the time Papa and me put spiders in the bathroom." She wrinkled her nose then; the memory of her mother's shrill wail of her name ringing in her ear. They were fake spiders, floppity gooey ones that stuck to the walls - but Mama still put her in the corner. "And then Mama kick Papa in the no-no place."

She grinned wide, bursting into high giggles at the memory of her Papa crumbling to the floor after Emily had run screaming out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. She did the same thing after Chloe fell; only she punched Clyde in the nose and then threatened to put a bullet through his brain if he ever taught her to stage dive off anything else.

Hotch whirled to Emily, finding the woman cringing at the girl's tale; holding Jack on her hip now to keep the boy from rushing off into the lake. Gingerly she eased his small fingers from her neckline, prying them from dropping the v-neck any lower as she flashed his father a sheepish smile.

"Hotch, this is my daughter Chloe - otherwise known as Evel Knievel the Second."

It took a moment, him staring at her, and then his brow twitched and he looked back down at the girl, mouth curling into a wry smirk. "Charmed," he drawled, and shook her good hand gently. When he straightened on his feet, he huffed, propping his hands on his hips as he regarded them in a dramatically serious frown. "Well, Miss Knievel, it seems that you've done enough damage to yourself for now; maybe after we finish feeding the ducks - _scaring _them, I mean, sorry - you might like to join us for ice-cream."

Chloe's eyes grew wide, as did her mother's.

"Oh, sir," Emily stuttered, glancing from the boy sucking his thumb in her arms and the girl bouncing on her feet beside her. "I don't want to get in the way of your plans with Jack -."

Chloe spun around to her mother, bouncing and hopping, wriggling as if she desperately needed the bathroom as she pleaded with Emily to agree. "Ice-cream, Mama, he wants to get us ice-cream!" She stared up at the woman incredulously. How was her mother not giving her consent already?

Mama loved ice-cream!

Emily flushed, shifting Jack on her hip as the boy also began to ask for the frozen confectionery. He was three years old and little, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate a cup of vanilla and strawberry ice-cream. "Hush, Chloe, you know it's rude to shout," she chided the girl, but both Hotch and Chloe knew it for the diversionary tactic it was.

The last thing she wanted really was to invade on the father-son time she knew he cherished more than anything in the world. After all, she had helped him settle into the confidence of handling Jack on his own; something that suddenly made so much sense to the man now as he stared down at the little girl who had her mother's pale skin and dark hair and pretty smile.

She was new to the team, but something about her had always seemed to...gravitate him towards her. Perhaps it was because they were always so...similar; not just their coloring and length of thought, but their wavelengths always seemed to...mesh.

He waved the woman's protest aside, smiling lopsidedly at her as he glanced down to the little girl bouncing eagerly between them. Their eyes met again, and he held her gaze for a speaking moment before he reached out with a hand, open and inviting. "Come on, Prentiss - one ice-cream cone won't hurt you."

When she eyed him dubiously, Hotch smirked and waggled his fingers at her. "I don't bite, Prentiss."

_Somehow, _Emily huffed to herself, as she reluctantly took a step towards her Unit Chief, watching Hotch take Chloe in hand as she lifted Jack higher on her hip. _I seriously doubt that._

* * *

**The reason why I chose this particular fic is because of all the others, this was the one most planned out, comparatively. It's easier to write and it's lighter in theme (for now) because it lets me experiment a lot with Jack and Haley and Hotch's relationship with them. At the same time, I get to do that with Emily and Clyde, and then combine all of those together with Chloe. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Haley for this universe is a lot more selfish and spiteful. I'm not a very big fan of her mostly, though I will do my best to keep from outright bashing her in this fic. Hotch has primary custody of Jack, mainly because Haley doesn't really want much to do with them both. She loves her son to a certain extent, but she also feels that Hotch should be responsible for him after basically making her raised their son as a single parent. **

* * *

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

They found a comfortable spot by a large and shady tree, Jack and Chloe were more than content to sit by their respective parent and enjoy their rather drippy ice-cream cones. Hotch and Emily had both insisted on getting them cups, but with both kids knowing full well, the strength of the Pout-n-Wiggle...it was very hard for Hotch to deny them.

Especially when the little girl pouting at him with such wide dark eyes looked exactly like her mother.

So with a sigh, he'd asked the kindly old gentleman behind the ice-cream cart for four of his best cones of strawberry and vanilla swirl ice-cream. As he fished his wallet out to pay, the old man held out the tray of ice-cream cones to Hotch, chuckling quietly and giving the younger man a wink as he slid a wad of serviettes into his hand as well.

"For when the sticky hands get into places they needn't be," he whispered conspiringly, glancing at where Jack - still in his place on Emily's hip - had his free hand still stuck into the v-neck of Emily's shirt.

Hotch worked his jaw a moment, but took the serviettes with a curt nod. "Thank you."

Presently they sat together, Emily with Jack tucked between her knees and Chloe sat rather comfortably by Hotch's side; the girl resting her cast against his thigh as they worked through their cones. Both little kids were covered in the confectionery, from fingers to cheeks to chins, and were oblivious to their parents scrubbing at their limbs before any of the sticky ice-cream dripped onto their clothes. Chloe wrinkled her nose as Hotch scrubbed at it with a piece of serviette, flapping the man away with her elbow.

Her hand was too busy holding onto her ice-cream cone.

"It's not drippy!" she whined, and the man rolled his eyes at her internally, glancing off at the girl's mother to share a quiet, indulgent smile.

"I see she takes after you," he drawled, mouth curved into a wry smile as Emily's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she cleaned Jack's little fingers before they were grabby at her shirt again.

Emily huffed indignantly, tossing a sticky serviette at him. "Hey, I don't whine!" she defended, tossing the last piece of Jack's ice-cream cone into her mouth, after he'd shoved it in her face and announced to them that his tummy was full and now he wanted to go play 'rollies down the hill!' Crunching the cone in her mouth, Emily's tongue darted out to lick the corner of her mouth where the strawberry and vanilla cream had lingered on her mouth.

She was so distracted by Jack's wriggling that she missed the dark flash of something highly inappropriate in Hotch's eyes as he watched her finish the cone. The man cleared his throat, releasing Chloe as well as she fussed to join Jack - moving off the tumble around with the three year old.

"Just stay where we can see you -."

"Don't wander off too far -."

They glanced at each other awkwardly, Emily shifting nervously at their tripping over their words, and offered him a meek smile as she tucked her hair behind her ear. She wasn't entirely used to seeing Hotch off-duty, let alone Daddy!Hotch in action. Sure, she'd spent a weekend or two over helping him settle into his new apartment; child-proofing the apartment and then settling Jack's bedroom - but that didn't mean she didn't still get warm fuzzy feelings in her stomach whenever she saw him with his son.

Or apparently calling out to their kids to be safe.

But she was pretty certain that was the embarrassment burning in her stomach and not lusty feelings for her boss.

Mostly.

When Chloe openly rolled her eyes at them both, Hotch smothered a chuckle in his chest and turned to Emily with an eyebrow raised in amusement. "So," he began casually; Emily was already resembling an embarrassed and terrified doe, he didn't think he'd want to do anything else to scare her off. "You never mentioned you were a mother."

Emily glanced at Hotch, staring at the man's face as he watched their kids tumbling across the grass, their giggles carrying in the breeze as they fall over each other from spinning so much. There was a small, wistful looking smile as he watched them, and when his hazel eyes turned back to her, she was surprised at how breathless she had become.

There was no reproach in his face, no anger or disbelief or any form of disapproval at her secret; the man's face was more open than she'd ever seen it. He was curious, mostly - Emily was an intensely private person, a trait they shared, and he felt somewhat...honored to be allowed into her personal life as he had. Granted, it was a coincidence, yes, but...nothing is accidental.

"It never came up," Emily said honestly, and a part of her was grateful for it. She slid her knees in closer to her chest, tucking her feet under her as she leaned over to face the Unit Chief. He was leaned back against the tree's bark, his long legs stretched out and crossed neatly in front of him as he peered at her face with interest. "I was in Europe when I had her; by the time I came back stateside, she was about the same age Jack is now." She smiled as she watched Jack fall flat on his cute little behind, only to be helped back to his feet by the giggling five year old.

Hotch nodded quietly at this, glancing once more at Emily's face. "And her father?" he asked tentatively, feigning an indifferent mask when she glanced at him sharply. He wasn't supposed to - obviously he wasn't supposed to, the woman had no obligation to him outside of the office -, but Hotch couldn't help a little burning ball of jealousy curling in his chest.

Knowing that there had been a man that had conceived that pretty little girl with her.

Emily sighed, and the man's interest was piqued. "Somewhere in Europe, I'm guessing," she uttered wryly, waving her hand in the air between them distractedly as Chloe and Jack began to cloud-gaze instead; perhaps growing tired from all the spinning. "He's usually on assignment all over the place - he's an old...partner from when I was with Interpol."

She waved the thought aside. "Water under the bridge, really."

"So...you're not...married then," he said slowly, eyeing the woman carefully.

"Dear God, no!" Emily shook her head, glancing at Hotch with a mildly appalled look on her face. So much so that the man couldn't help but flash her a dimple in amusement. She snorted, shaking her head indulgently as she gave her Unit Chief a look. "I can barely survive Clyde when he visits, let alone for the rest of my life!"

Perish the thought!

She loved Clyde as the father of her child, but little else. He was a wonderful friend and partner, but Emily preferred her life without a ring on her finger and a man dictating her life. Though she was fairly certain Clyde was hardly the man to 'dictate' her; she was sure there would be a sandwich joke every so often.

Hotch smiled, an amused, indulgent thing on his mouth; his dimples peeking through his cheeks that delighted the woman. "Wow, that's like the fourth smile in an hour - I feel like I need to document this," she teased, laughing openly when the man blushed a pretty shade of pink. To see the grim-faced Unit Chief smiling was one thing - _blushing _was another.

"I've smiled around the office before," he muttered, and Emily could hear the quiet petulance in his voice. It amused her to hear him murmur so; she wondered briefly what he must've been like as a child. A young boy quite like Jack, with an ever curious mind and an almost shy disposition.

Emily smiled, and it was a wistful thing. "You don't smile enough." Their eyes met, a lingering moment that seemed to happen as often as they were within the same breathing space together. It was hard to explain; the tangible pull that they felt to one another - the amount of energy they spent actively combating their natural urges.

The sadness in his eyes and mouth made it very hard indeed for Emily to resist the urges. Desperately she wanted just to reach over and kiss the sadness and the burden away, he'd endure so much already. She wanted to hold his face in her face, caress the weathered pull of his forehead and mark the lines of his high cheekbones with the lightest whispering kisses, and then press her mouth to his in the sweetest touch she could muster.

But instead the woman merely blinked, breaking their gazes from each other and smiling in sympathetic understanding instead.

Hotch stared at her, a sad smile lingering on his lips, but his words were quiet and layered. "I suppose I'll have to remedy that, won't I?"

"Yes," Emily said, nodding slowly; the smile on her pretty mouth was speaking. She shrugged a slender shoulder, turning her eyes back to the children. She leaned back onto her elbows, watching languidly as Jack and Chloe squealed and chased each other. Darting a glance at the man watching her, Emily smiled around the corner of her mouth. "Who knows - maybe you'll find more reasons to smile now."

The man felt his mouth twitch, and the roll of his dark eyes was indulgent as they sparkled at the woman. "Perhaps." He leaned back on his elbows as well, reveling in the peace and contentment of the moment; he was in the company of the beautiful woman whom he'd admired for many years, and their children seemed to be having a better time than they had in a long time.

Hotch hoped that it would be the beginning of a beautiful thing. Between them, their hands brushed, and when Emily spared him a shy smile, Aaron Hotchner knew that he would do anything it took to make these park encounters a constant in his life.

* * *

By the end of their tumbling excursions, Chloe and Jack were draped in their respective parent's arms, both teetering on the very edge of their mid-afternoon naps. With his face pressed into his father's shoulder, Jack regarded Emily with drooping eyes and fluttering lashes. "Can Emmy and Chloe come home with us, Daddy?"

Although it took the man a moment to really decipher his son's mumbling - to Hotch it sounded more like "c'n 'mmy 'nd Chloe nd c'm 'ome wi' us, D'ddy?"

Hotch chuckled quietly, jostling the half-conscious boy in his arms gently. "You're falling asleep already, buddy - what'll Emmy and Chloe do while you nap?" The man leaned back to look at his little boy, stroking his hand over Jack's sandy hair that was darkening by the day. The selfish part of Hotch was pleased - his son was so much more like him than his mother.

It was clear enough that Haley wanted very little to do with their son.

Jack shrugged; Emily watched with wry amusement as she too held Chloe in her arms, although the girl was already well into her nap and drooling on Emily's shoulder. "Nap too," the boy said simply, as if it was preposterous for his father to think of them to do anything else.

Before Emily or Hotch could tell the boy otherwise, there was a growling rumble from between them, and Emily burned a deep shade of pink when she realized where it came from. "Sorry," she murmured, as Hotch raised an eyebrow. "I didn't eat much this morning."

"Evidently," Hotch drawled, smirking in amusement when Emily cast a blushing glare his way. The man chuckled in his chest, watching as Emily began to pat Chloe gently on her behind, in the wistful way he sometimes found himself doing with Jack at night. It was clear that Emily was uncomfortable with the thought of coming home with them - though the man wasn't nearly as against the idea as he should be.

He tilted his head at her. "Would you like to have lunch with us?" he asked impulsively, and watched as Emily's eyes grew adorably wide. "If you'd like, you could come over; the little kids can nap while the big kids have some much needed coffee and make lunch."

Emily bit her lip, her mind chiding her against it but her stomach roiling eagerly at the thought of food...and spending time with Hotch. She shifted Chloe in her hold, tucking her head into her neck better. Regarding the man carefully, she thought for once to listen to her gut and not her head.

"I expect good coffee from you, Aaron Hotchner. You consume enough to bleed coffee."

The man smirked, and Emily wasn't sure if she was afraid and intrigued by the suggestive gleam in his hazel eyes. "Come home with me and see."

* * *

**I'm actually not very happy with how out of character Hotch seems like, but if I kept him entirely in character, it would take at least ten chapters for us to get him to even crack a smile at Emily. So we're fast-forwarding, and as I said - they've already forged a bond when Emily helped him settle things when he first divorced. I'd say with continuous exposure to someone as amazing as Emily would coax even someone as hermit-y as Hotch out of his shell. It's like Wonder Woman; there's a saying that goes that everyone who meets Wonder Woman can't help but like/fall in love (platonically and otherwise) with her because she's just...her)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I forgot to mention that this should probably take place sometime in Season 4, before Foyet but after they officially divorce, obviously.**

* * *

They returned to Hotch's apartment in Emily's car; the modest and tasteful three bedroom that he had finally settled on eventually...with Emily's help. The woman had taken a liking to the apartment almost immediately - the one that wasn't too far away from Quantico, was close to the park they'd just come from, and had a good school within the district for Jack when he was older. The space was more than enough for them; both Emily and Hotch had a preference to the apartment's third bedroom.

The one with the wall to ceiling bookshelf that Hotch had turned into his study.

Hotch was pretty certain he recalled Emily actually _squealing _when she saw the bookshelf.

He pushed the apartment door open, leaning against the door to keep it open as Emily brushed past him into the apartment. His mouth twitched fondly at the sight of Emily standing in his apartment hallway, gazing distractedly at the hall photos of Jack; her hand was patting idly at Chloe's sleeping back still, as the girl murmured unaware on her shoulder.

She turned to him expectantly, and the man realized that maybe it was better that he put his son to bed rather than gaping at Emily like a creeper.

"I really like what you've done to the place," she remarked, trailing after the man as he led her down the hall to Jack's bedroom. The walls of the living room and hallway were painted a calming shade of grey; sophisticated and tasteful. As it led down into the bedrooms, Emily smiled when she came upon the young boy's room - the bright walls of green and the accompanying wallpaper of various zoo animals lining the edges. The little boy's bed was draped in a Curious George comforter set and fitted with a bed rail to prevent accidental tumbles in the middle of the night.

Emily smiled warmly at the man, watching as Hotch lowered his son gently to the bed; plucking deftly at Jack's little shoes and tucking the boy around his favorite stuffed dinosaur. A growing warmth spread through her chest, burning down into her stomach as the Unit Chief leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his son's forehead - Jack was a lucky little boy to have a Daddy like Hotch.

"Here." Hotch stepped back, revealing to Emily the space beside Jack on the bed. He smiled at her gently. "They can share - the bed's big enough for them both." He gave the mattress a little pat, and reached out - pulling back almost instantly as he gave Emily a sheepish smile.

The pink on his cheeks had Emily shaking her head indulgently at him. "Sorry," he murmured, stepping aside. "You should probably put her down -."

Wordlessly she stepped forward, into his space and gently deposited the sleeping girl into his startled arms. Smiling slightly, she stepped back, squeezing his arm in her hand as she gave him a speaking look. "You trust me with your son," she told him simply, and that was enough for Hotch.

Stepping back, Emily folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the doorframe to watch as the dark haired man maneuvered her daughter into the bed beside his son as gently as he could. Chloe's gangly limbs were almost lovingly tucked safely away from where they could do harm - to herself or Jack, and almost immediately the girl sprawled out onto her stomach. Her bad arm was tucked tight into her chest; a makeshift teddy bear to cuddle.

He turned back to Emily, and she saw the corner of his mouth quiver.

"She really does take after you quite a bit, doesn't she?" Hotch smiled drolly, eyes flashing in amusement at the blush that rose on Emily's cheeks. Stubbornly the woman ignored his gaze, choosing instead to focus on the large wooden alphabets spelling Jack's name on the wall directly across her. Even as she stared blankly ahead, she could feel the burn of his gaze on her face.

They were frequent travelers in small spaces. Many times on the road, they'd shared rooms and sometimes beds. Over the months of occasionally sharing a room with all six of the members of the BAU, Hotch had come to memorize all of their sleeping patterns. Morgan and Rossi were both snorers; JJ and Emily had already threatened to stick them both in the bathtub twice. Actually Emily had wanted to smother the men in their sleep, but Reid had simply told them to turn on their sides.

JJ was a cuddler, affectionate as she was - many times in the night Emily would wake with the blonde nearly on top of her. Even Hotch had fallen victim to JJ's nocturnal affection, but thankfully had been able to extract himself from her grip before the Media Liaison woke and refused to look him in the eye ever again. Reid talked in his sleep; statistics and theories and equations were known to be sprouted on particularly difficult cases, and when not - it was mostly dialogue from the old Star Trek. Complete with arguments of Picard vs. Kirk.

Given their limited choices of...normal bed partners, (and most times Emily and JJ slept in separate beds) when it was time to share a queen, Emily and Hotch were often immediately at each other's side. Hotch didn't snore or kick, though sometimes he was inclined to spoon; Emily liked to sprawl on her stomach and stretch across the bed. Most times their combination made for some very interesting morning positions, but it was widely accepted in the group to never speak of what happened in hotel rooms together.

The point was that Chloe was now doing exactly what her mother did in bed - she sprawled.

It was endearing to see, and Hotch smirked in amusement when Emily huffingly rolled her eyes at him. "So the kid I carried inside me and nearly passed out delivering has some things in common with me - huzzah." She spun on her heels and strode out of the bedroom, calling back to Hotch's rumbling chuckle as he trailed after her.

"You promised me good coffee, Hotchner. I expect to be impressed."

* * *

Sometime later, Emily found herself leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Hotch with rapt fascination as the man moved around the kitchen seamlessly. In her hand she nursed a mug of hot Irish coffee - her favorite, as she inhaled the enticing scents of what was to be lunch.

Sipping her coffee, she raised a brow over the rim of her mug, watching as Hotch chopped, diced, and stirred the varying sizzling pans on the stove. It smelled like heaven; she couldn't remember the last time she had a homecooked meal - many times, Emily came home well after Chloe was put to bed and fed by her nanny, and usually helped herself to something quick.

It made her mouth water.

Although Emily wasn't sure if it was just the food that had her drooling.

"It smells delicious," she said, as she rounded the island counter. The mug was left on the marble top, and she moved to where he stood by the stove, stirring at the contents of the pan. What sight it was to see, the Unit Chief of the BAU, dressed immaculately in his suits and polished Italian shoes - standing there in front of her in jeans and a shirt, wearing a deep red apron that demanded her to Kiss the Cook.

Tempted as she was to obey...Emily liked her job.

She inhaled the scents hungrily, peering over his shoulder as Hotch glanced at her wryly. She met his gaze with an innocent grin. "You never told us you could cook."

Hotch shrugged, smiling crookedly at her. "I don't cook much, but I like to indulge every once and a while," he admitted, and went back to stirring the couscous and pesto in the pan. Over his shoulder, he could feel Emily watching still; curiosity and her long-standing hunger had her bravely invading the personal space of her Unit Chief.

He glanced at her over his shoulder, smirking. "If you wanted a taste, all you had to do was ask," he rumbled lowly, and Emily found herself lowering her gaze in an almost shy guilt. Hotch felt his mouth twitch, _God she was adorable_, and calmly he held out the wooden spoon to her.

When all she did was stare, he raised a brow at her flatly. "I won't have to order you to try my cooking, will I?" He waved the spoon slightly, smirking wider when Emily's eyes trailed it hungrily. "I promise I won't poison you."

Gnawing at her lower lip nervously, Emily chanced a glance up at the man's face. He was smiling down at her expectantly, holding the spoon out patiently for her to taste. Cautiously she pinched off a taste between her fingers, slipping the morsel between her lips swiftly to avoid any embarrassing spills and gave it a slow and thorough chew.

Flavor burst on her tongue, and Emily's eyes widened as she began to chew with fervor. Hotch chuckled as he watched her face; the expressive doe eyes that seemed to light up as she brought her fingers to her mouth and licked off the remnants of the couscous. He gave a grinning chuckle at her bewilderment face.

"Good?" He held up the spoon for another taste, which Emily gladly took advantage of.

Emily nodded eagerly, picking off another pinch. It was _delicious_ - God, she couldn't remember the last time she had couscous, and couscous that good! "It's delicious," she nearly moaned, and blushed heatedly when the man burst out in an amused laughter. She cleared her throat awkwardly, mustering a watery, sheepish smile. "Sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"You're hungry. It's understandable," he told her, and lowered the spoon back into the pot to dish the pesto couscous out. "For you." He held out the plate with a flourish; Emily almost felt her eyes flutter as the scents assaulted her senses all at once. "Grilled chicken and basil pesto couscous."

Emily nearly swooned when he winked - Aaron Hotchner _winked_!

"Don't swallow it all in one go though; I've heard that it's best if you savored the flavor."

"_Mama_?"

The sleepy little voice had them both turning to the hallway, and Hotch felt his mouth curving into an affectionate smile at the sight of the little girl standing there. With her good hand rubbing sleepily at her eye, Chloe peered at them through her tangled pigtails. "Mama, 'm hungry."

Running around and power napping took a toll on little girls.

Emily placed her plate down onto the counter and beckoned Chloe to her, lifting the sleepy girl onto her hip as Hotch turned away back to the stove and seemed to busy himself with something. "Did you sleep okay, baby?" she asked the girl, brushing her hand through Chloe's tangled mass of hair and loosening the elastics from her hair and letting the thick hair spool around her shoulders.

Chloe nodded lazily into her mother's shoulder, and watched the man as he bustled around the kitchen. "I'm hungry, Agent Hotch sir."

"I heard, Miss Chloe ma'am," the man returned, the droll amusement coloring his words as he turned back to the pair, armed with a bowl of something now. Holding it closer for Chloe's curious inspection, Hotch tilted his head at her with a smile. "How does alphabet pasta and dinosaur nuggets sounds to you?"

Almost immediately Chloe reached out for the bowl, and laughing, Emily lowered Chloe to her feet to accept the bowl. She watched fondly as Hotch knelt to the girl's height, handing the bowl to her and guiding her carefully to the dining table. "Both hands, that's it," she heard him murmur to her gently, and watched as Chloe balanced the bowl carefully in her hands.

Hotch pulled out a seat for the girl, and peered down curiously at Chloe when she paused in her step and stared up at him expectantly. "Yes, Chloe?"

The girl gestured to the seat, and the rather high-set table. "I can't reach."

He blinked. "Ah. Of course." She was a smaller girl, thin though tall for her height; she was still in need of a boost at the dining table. He searched the room for something for her to sit on, and caught Emily's eye as she appeared with a book in hand.

Hotch smiled when he saw the title - one of his many old books from law school. He accepted it from the woman with a shared look, and the man slid the book onto the dining chair before lifting Chloe onto it. "Comfy?" he asked the girl, and Chloe merely nodded her thanks before spearing a stegosaurus.

"You had her at alphabet pasta," Emily informed him, appearing now with two plates of the grilled chicken and couscous. She placed them on the table, running her hand through Chloe's hair as the girl ate. Scooting in closer and moving to stand behind the girl's seat, Emily began to braid Chloe's hair as Hotch disappeared into the kitchen for what she assumed to be drinks.

True enough, his voice called back to her. "Will water be alright for you?"

"Of course," she called back, as the man reappeared with two glasses for them, and then regarded the young girl mock-seriously.

"And for the little lady?" He held up a bottle of what looked like apple juice, and another one of chocolate milk. "Apple-pear or chocolate soy?"

Chloe's eyes lit up, and under the table her feet kicked excitedly as she reached for the chocolate. "Chocolate, chocolate please!" she cried, and gasped eagerly when the man lowered it within her grasp. She stared up at the man with such unbridled awe, as if he'd just given her the best gift of the universe. "Thank you, Agent Hotch sir!"

Emily tilted her head curiously; the braided hair was left to rest neatly down her daughter's back. "Why the soy?" she asked, intrigued as the man kept the apple-pear within reach for the little girl too.

"Jack can't take too much dairy," he revealed, as he stepped back and tucked his hands into his back pockets and smiled at them uncertainly. "I don't usually have much milk at hand, except for cereal every so often. I'm sorry."

Emily blinked. "Don't be," she found herself saying, and something settled in her stomach then. "Chloe can't take dairy much either."

Something shifted behind the man's dark eyes, and they lingered on each other for a long moment, before Chloe began to speak, having caught the mention of her name.

"I like chocolate soy," the girl said distractedly, scooping a spoonful of pasta into her mouth. "My tummy hurts and makes funny noises when I take normal milk."

The man gave her a warm smile. "Well then, I guess we have a lot more in common than I expected, Prentiss." He pulled out a seat for her, urging her into the black oak chair. As she sat, and he pushed the seat in for her, Emily found herself smothering a shiver as he leaned over her shoulder to reach for the plate and glass of water.

Just as Emily began to fork her couscous, there came a weepy call from down the hall, and Hotch was at once by his son's side. They emerged with Jack tucked safe in his father's arms, sucking habitually on his thumb as he caught sight of Chloe and Emily. His little dimples immediately peeked through his cheeks as he wriggled to be set down, dashing over to Emily and rushing to clamber onto her lap.

Unfortunately though Hotch caught his son by the middle, and tugged the boy back. "Now Jack, let Emmy eat," he chided the toddler gently, and set the huffing boy into his booster seat beside Chloe.

"Daddy, what's Chloe sittin' on?" he asked suddenly, leaning over his booster seat to observe the hardcover book underneath the girl.

"She's sitting on a book, buddy," Hotch told the boy, as he gave Emily a grateful smile when the woman appeared with the three year old's plastic straw cup filled with chocolate soy milk as well.

Jack pouted thoughtfully, watching as the girl sat contentedly on the thick hardcover book, munching away at her pasta and nuggets. "I wanna sit on a book too!" he declared, wriggling in his booster seat. "I wanna use the book!"

Hotch sighed inwardly and gradually indulged his son. "Just this once," he told the boy, as he lifted Jack out of his booster seat and let Emily slide not one, but two textbooks on the seat. No doubt she'd seen his old collection of books in the study - the row of traditional hardcover bound books heavy enough to concuss. "You know when I got these, I didn't expect to be using them in such a physical manner."

Emily met his gaze, and they shared a wry smile. "I guess it's about time they were put to use again."

* * *

"Oh God," Emily moaned, slumped into her seat on the couch. "I think I'm going to explode."

"Don't do it on my couch," the man drawled from beside her. "Leather's easy to clean, but the stains will stay forever." He grunted breathlessly, chuckling when Emily's hand lashed out and socked him in the stomach.

"Ow." He rubbed his stomach, eyeing Emily through a narrow glare. "I'm writing you up for that."

Emily rolled her eyes. "We're off duty, _sir_, I could kick you if I wanted." Although she was much more inclined to really kiss the man silly for feeding her the most delicious meal she had in months.

"Mama, you're not supposed to hurt nobody," Chloe chided her, popping up from the floor where she sat with Jack and built cities with his Legos. She propped her elbow onto Emily's knee, resting her bad arm on her mother as she wrinkled her nose at them both. "Kicking Agent Hotch sir would be mean!"

He was a nice man; he fed them yummy food and smelt nice and warm and cuddly-like. She couldn't understand why Mama would want to hurt him.

Then again, Mama hurt Papa too, but Papa sometimes burned the macaroni or scared her with the floppy spiders. Peering up at Hotch's handsome face, Chloe didn't think of him as a man to scare people with floppy spiders.

He'd probably be the one kicking Papa in the no-no place.

"That's right, Chloe -." Hotch cast a glance at Emily, grinning shamelessly at the woman rolling her eyes at him. "Kicking is mean." He turned back to the girl, tapping her gently on the nose. "Although I'd think that maybe we could do without the formal titles."

Chloe looked perplexed. "Then what do I call you?"

The man shrugged. "Hotch," he said simply. "Like your Mama does."

"I call you sir sometimes," Emily added, smiling beatifically at the man when he gave her a narrow-eyed glare.

"Only because you know I hate it," he groused, to which Emily merely laughed. "You think I don't know you're sassing at me when you call me that - indirect insubordination is still insubordination."

The woman tilted her head at him and shrugged, though her mouth was already twitching into a wicked smirk. "Just giving authority where it's due, _sir_." Her smirk widened into a grin when the man's dark eyes glowered at her threateningly.

He turned back to Chloe seriously. "Hotch will be fine," he told her calmly. "There's no need for 'Agent' or 'sir'."

The girl seemed to give this a long consideration, as Jack came to her side and rested his head on his father's knee. He glanced between the two adults, but focused a majority of his attention on the girl with the braided hair.

"I like it," Chloe proclaimed then, grinning toothily at the dark-haired pair as she draped a little Lego car onto her mother's thigh. "Special Agent Hotch, Super-Hotch, Hotch-man, Spider-Hotch -."

"Mega-Hotch!" Jack piped up, and the two of them burst into high giggles. Turning his head up to Emily, Jack clambered up onto her lap, slipping a Lego man into her palm as he nuzzled his face into her neck. "That's Daddy!" he told the woman, and Emily felt her smile soften when she saw the little frowny-faced Lego man in her palm.

Emily smiled slightly, resting her chin on the little boy's head as he cuddled close and sighed happily against her skin. She fingered the Lego man in her hand, tracing the little frowny-face and running her fingertip over the jet black 'hair' of the Lego figure. "It certainly bears a striking resemblance," she murmured, and Hotch chuffed at her.

Chloe grinned from Emily's knee still . "He's all mad 'cause the road in the city's jammed up and he can't get to the potty -." The girl squealed shrilly when the man hauled her up suddenly, and found herself plopped onto his lap. It was a split second as their gazes met, before Chloe began squealing genuinely as he began to tickle her. She cowered into his arm, tucking her body into a ball, but unable to escape the prodding fingers. She giggled and screamed and squealed, and flapped her bad arm out.

"Noooo I can't fight back 'cause of my arm!" She screamed as Hotch tucked her between his legs, dangling her head upside down an inch from the floor. Giggling breathlessly, Chloe felt the giddiness rush to her head with the blood. "You're cheating!"

Hotch leaned over her, grinning evilly at the girl as her eyes grew comically wide on her face. She wriggled and fought, but they were token at best - a five year old was no match for a full grown man made of lean muscle. "I'm Special Agent Super Spider Mega Hotch-man; I don't cheat." He slid his wriggling fingers along her sides, much to the squealing girl's dismay.

"Mama, help me!" she gasped, giggling hysterically as the man hovered over her and hauled her upright just before dropping her down again.

Laughing, Emily gathered Jack in her arms and scooted further away from them instead. "I'm sorry baby, but you know Mama can't help." She hugged the giggling boy and gave Chloe a dramatic rendition of her helpless doe-eyes as the girl gave her a flat, betrayed look. "Well what if he tickles me too?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest at the thought - Hotch straddling her and pinning her to the floor with the effortless strength that rolled off him the same way his aftershave did. She imagined it would be a futile resistance, and most likely would end in either one of them in tears.

She was _freakishly _ticklish.

Almost as soon as the words came from her mouth, Emily felt a torrent of regret and dread overcome her as the man literally froze over Chloe, and turned to her at a horrifyingly slow glance. She swallowed nervously, offering the man a crooked smile as she held Jack closer to her and held the boy out in front of her.

Anything to keep the boy's father from getting his hands on her.

Calmly Hotch straightened, pulling Chloe up with him. Pressing his hand to her back to keep her steady, both of them turned to look at Emily, and after a long and silent stare, began to smile in the more terrifying way imaginable.

"So Agent Prentiss," he began conversationally, as Chloe slid off his lap and urged Jack away. Enamored as the boy was with the girl, Jack eagerly obliged, joining Chloe as she rounded the couch and approached her mother with a sweet smile. "I wonder."

Emily swallowed, backing into the couch and scrambling off the leather seat as she eyed them warily. "Wonder, sir?" Hotch rose in a surge; a wolf on the prowl, and beside him were his two hungry and eager pups, grinning and yipping excitedly. She stepped down the hall, deeper into the apartment - down towards the bedroom.

She wasn't sure why she was petrified, but she was certain it was for a good reason.

The black of his eyes flashed, and he grinned at her wolfishly. "Do you scream like Chloe? Or louder?"

_Louder_, the man decided, as they lunged at Emily and the woman gave a shrill wailing scream of despair. _Definitely louder_.

* * *

**This will probably progress a lot faster than the original, but they'll still be horribly adorable and fluffy while steeping in angst, I promise. Clyde and Haley will probably make an appearance in the next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Clyde gets a little jealous/suspicious of the fun times they're having.**

* * *

They tortured poor Emily until finally there came a truce; the threat of Emily's bladder surrendering to their wiggling fingers was enough to have Hotch sit back on his haunches, grinning triumphantly down at the woman whose legs he was straddling.

She stared up at the man, eyes wide and doe-like as Hotch grinned down at her wolfishly. There was a thrilling rush spreading over her; a heat that burned low in her stomach - a flame stoked not by tickling fingers and giggling children. Her eyes flashed up at him, her cheeks ruddy and her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe; the sight of her had the man pulling back for a stunned moment - if only to keep his own libido in check.

Holding his hand out to her, Hotch offered her a crooked smile. "I'd say that's enough excitement for today," he said, as Emily accepted his hand with a petulant glare. He spared her a wink as he lifted her to her feet, steadying the woman with a hand to her back as she swayed precariously on her feet at the sudden rush of blood to her head.

"I probably shouldn't have drank that juice box with the water for lunch," she groaned, draping a hand over her stomach protectively. Her bladder was bursting, and she was almost certain she would lose control of it if they decided to ambush her again.

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her, smirking at the woman's pallid face. "Careful there, Prentiss - first you threaten to ruin my couch, now my floor?" he teased her, chuckling openly when Emily cast an accusing glare his way and shoved at him. He crouched down at the wriggling pair of kids, giving them a high five each as they crowed and giggled their triumph over Emily.

"We got Mama real good, didn't we, Hotch?" Chloe exclaimed, as Emily excused herself to the bathroom. "We almost got Mama to go potty in her pants!"

"I heard that!" Emily called back, and Chloe and Jack shared a conspiring giggle when Emily's head popped up around the corner of the bathroom. The woman narrowed her eyes at them briefly before disappearing once more, and the kids turned up to Hotch before they all burst into a raucous laughter.

Hotch swallowed his laughter into an affectionate chuckle, shaking his head at the pair doubled over each other gasping for breath. "Alright, you two," he said, as he scooped Jack into his arms and took Chloe's good arm in his hand. "We'd better get you two cleaned up before either of you make an accident too."

Chloe wrinkled her nose indignantly. "I don't go potty in my pants no more!" she told the man, puffing her chest out proudly as Hotch glanced down at her wryly. "I'm a big girl now, Hotch. I go potty just like Mama does." The girl shook her head at the man - _silly Hotch, couldn't he see that she was a big girl just like Mama?_

The man's mouth quivered as he nodded somberly at the girl. "My apologies then." He lifted Jack onto the kitchen counter and then Chloe, and brandished a damp face towel. "Now sit still," he told them, as he began to wipe at their faces.

Of course, no child sat through a clean-up patiently. They squirmed and fussed and whined, but Hotch was adamant in his quest of removing all possible food crumbs and dirt leftover from their romp at the park. As much as the man would much rather put them both into a tub and scrub them clean, he wasn't exactly sure how Emily would take him manhandling her daughter into a bathtub.

…that sounded wrong.

"Chloe, sit still," he chided the girl, but the five year old was insistent in her escape from the deathly wet face towel. He clucked his tongue at her, frowning purposefully as he meticulously cleaned the dirt away from her cast; all the while with Chloe fussing and whining. Hotch shook his head at the girl in exasperation. "I've had less trouble getting full grown men into handcuffs."

"That's 'cause you ain't giving them a bath like a mama cat!" Chloe replied fussily, and wriggled in his hold for another moment longer before the girl gave a dramatic sigh and flopped backwards onto the kitchen counter, much to the man's chagrin and his son's delight.

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her flatly. "I'm not _licking _you, Chloe, I'm cleaning you up." He lowered his son onto the ground, and then the girl, who continued to lie limp in his arms. The man rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quivering as he prodded the girl in the side.

"Oh good," he drawled when she squeaked. "I thought I'd _cleaned you to death_, Tiger-cub."

Chuckling when the girl made a face at him, he lowered her to the ground, straightening to his feet just as Emily reappeared from the hallway. He smiled at her as she scooped Jack into her arms; the boy hadn't really given her a chance to deny him - he was already midway when Emily bent to catch him.

"Emmy, Daddy cleaned Chloe up like a mama cat!" Jack informed her, as he snuggled happily into her arms and rested his head on her shoulder. Settling comfortably in Emily's arms, the boy smiled; he loved his Emmy dearly - she always smelt good and she was warm and cuddly, and she made Daddy smile a lot!

And now she gave him Chloe to play with too!

Emily blinked, processing the boy's words as she raised an eyebrow at the man, where Chloe and Hotch approached her. She cast a wry smile at the man as he heaved a sigh, shaking his head at the girl as she clung to her mother's legs. "According to your son, I just missed you giving my daughter a tongue bath."

The man flushed, clearing his throat awkwardly as he held up the face towel. "I'd implore you never to say that in front of company, ever," he mumbled, and Emily laughed in delight at the pink color of his cheeks. He gestured to the girl hiding between her mother's legs, shaking his head with a benevolent frown at Chloe as she wrinkled her nose at him. "_Someone_ wouldn't sit still for me to clean her up."

"So you…licked her?" Emily grinned when the man began to sputtered, stepping up to Hotch and patting him gently on the chest before his face burned red. "Alright, alright, I know you didn't." Her eyes were bright as she stared up at him amusedly. "Although that paints a hilarious picture in my head."

An image of Hotch complete with cat ears and tail licking at a struggling Chloe had her laughing practically in his face, as Emily curled around Jack and hid her giggles into the boy's neck to keep from his glowering father. She snorted and snickered, glancing at Hotch over Jack's hair and breaking into more giggles at the perplexed frown on his face. It amused her to think of never being able to take him seriously again beyond this.

Lord help her if she broke out in laughter at a case briefing.

"Sorry." She giggled as he glared at her, and Emily shook her head fondly at the sulking man. "Aw, don't be such a grumpy-puss, Hotch."

The man's eyes couldn't possibly get narrower without actually being shut. "You take too much pleasure in embarrassing me, Prentiss," he grumbled, using the face towel to clean off his hands. "I should only hope you still listen to me in the office at this point." While he huffed and puffed and sulked about the little misunderstanding, Hotch couldn't help but feel gratified in his own way at amusing Emily so.

Even if it was at his own expense - it was worth it, if he could get Emily's eyes to light up like that for him.

Her eyes met his, and she offered him a smile - gone was the teasing gleam, and in it's place was the familiar, affectionate gaze the woman would regard him with whenever they were alone. He felt a strange warmth in his chest then, unfamiliar for many years, and recognizing it now both surprised and frightened the man.

It was broken, however, by the insistent tugging at Emily's jeans.

Chloe bounced on her feet, fussing impatiently at where Jack had all but settled into her favorite spot - Mama's arms. "Mama, I want up too!" she requested, holding out her arms for the woman expectantly. As much as she enjoyed Jack as a playmate, Chloe was still a young girl and unfamiliar with the idea of sharing her mother with other children.

Mama was hers, first and foremost.

Emily smiled down soothingly at the girl, and stroked her hair apologetically. "Mama can't carry both of you right now, baby. I'm sorry." Her heart clenched when Chloe pouted, but the woman couldn't linger on the feeling for long as Hotch swept the girl into his arms, and promptly settled her onto his shoulders.

Her heart leapt into her throat instead.

"Please don't break her other arm."

Hotch rolled his eyes at her, grinning up at where Chloe was giggling rather contentedly on his shoulders, resting her cast on the top of his head as he held her legs. "You're perfectly safe and comfy up there, aren't you, Tiger-cub?"

"Yup," Chloe nodded happily, grinning at her mother as Emily eyed her dubiously. "I'm a big girl, Mama! Tiger-cubs ain't scared of no tall things!"

Hotch smiled wryly. "Although you might want to start - Mama's not going to be happy if you break something else on your body," he told the girl drolly, looking up as she bent down to stare at his upside down face.

She shrugged. "It always fixes itself."

Emily stared at them for a moment, unsure if she wanted to smile or not, but it tickled her ridiculously to see the way they shared a lopsided grin, and the sudden new nickname her Unit Chief had already given her daughter. If anything, Tiger-cub defined Chloe perfectly; she could already see the girl asking for a tiger costume for Halloween. She rolled her eyes at them, shifting Jack higher on her hip. "That's because Mama has an amazing insurance policy," she quipped, and tapped Chloe's leg then. "Come on, baby. We need to get going or we'll never get you to bed in time, and you have class tomorrow," she reminded the girl firmly as she lowered Jack to the ground to take Chloe off Hotch's shoulders.

Chloe groaned, fussing in her mother's arms petulantly as she wrapped her legs around Emily's waist and hugged her neck. "Aw, Mama, do I have to go tomorrow?" she whined, pouting at the woman. "I don't wanna go yet, I wanna play with Jack!"

"Don't go yet, Emmy, please?" Jack begged her, tugging at her jeans now as he stared up at her pleadingly. His wide hazel eyes peered up at her sweetly, his lower lip quivering for effect.

Hotch chuckled quietly as he swept his son away into his arms, patting the boy gently on his behind as they regarded Emily and Chloe. His brow creased curiously, smiling out of the corner of his mouth as Emily smiled at him apologetically. "Tomorrow's a Sunday, Emily," he told her, and Emily nodded. "Schools don't open on Sundays - none that I know of, at least."

Vaguely in his mind, he considered the idea of Sunday school, but Hotch had never taken Emily for quite the religious type. He knew she was a Catholic, though by her own admission rather lapsed in her practice. He recalled once Emily having mentioned the last time she'd set foot into a church was when she was fifteen in Rome.

Emily gave him a wan smile and shifted Chloe onto her hip. "Actually, she goes to gymnastics on Sundays, and for once Clyde's in town. He offered to take her in the morning," she explained, rolling her eyes when Chloe groaned at the mention of the dreaded class. "It's pretty early in the morning, and this little miss hates anything that gets in the way of her sleep."

"Don't we all," Hotch drawled, and they shared a smile. Reluctantly though, he obliged the woman, and began to walk them to the door. As much as he longed to have them stay longer, insist that they stay for dinner, he knew that their encounter was a chance one at best; he couldn't take their weekend from them at such short notice.

Logically, he knew that. But still in his chest there simmered a pot of jealousy at the thought of Emily spending all of Sunday with Chloe and her father.

_Clyde._

"How long will she be at class tomorrow?" he asked, as Emily wrestled Chloe into her coat, and he lowered Jack to hold open her own coat for her. Calmly he slid the coat over her shoulders, brushing off the material for her as she turned back to him with a grateful, if shy smile.

Emily huffed, glancing down at where Chloe and Jack were rather miserably bidding each other goodbye. It amused her to think of how fast they'd taken to each other; and at the same time she was relieved and perhaps a touch hopeful of seeing the adorable little boy and his Daddy again. "We should be done before noon," she told him, and tilted her head at him with a smile she hoped wasn't as hopeful as it was casual. "Why, sir? Was one day with us not enough for you?" she teased him.

_Not nearly_, he thought, but smiled at her rakishly. Shrugging his shoulders, he leaned back against the wall, tucking his hands into his pockets as he regarded her lazily. "Well, Jack and I were hoping on going to the Smithsonian's dinosaur exhibit tomorrow a little after lunch, as a matter of fact. I'm sure we don't mind company," he told her, and smiled down at where Jack and Chloe perked up at the sound of their favorite animal.

"Dinosaurs?" Chloe echoed, glancing between the adults hopefully. "We're gonna see dinosaurs?" She grabbed her mother's hand, tugging eagerly as she stared up at Emily with wide, expectant eyes. "Mama, we go see the dinosaurs?"

Jack joined in, grasping Emily's other hand and tugging pleadingly. "Come with, Emmy! Please, please come with!" He turned to his father demandingly, staring up at the man hopefully. "Daddy, Emmy 'nd Chloe come with too?" If Emmy and Chloe came with, it would be the BEST day ever!

Emily turned to Hotch with a flustered, mock-accusing smile. "You just ambushed me with my own kid, sir."

"Fair game," he shrugged, and flashed her a stunning grin. "So what do you say, Emily? Do you want to come spend another afternoon with us?" His casual, suggestive tone belied the nervous pounding of his heart in his chest. "I'll even take you out to lunch before to sweeten the deal."

Slowly, he watched as Emily seemed to consider his offer, gnawing at her lower lip in the adorable way she did. He saw the hesitance in her eyes, the nervous uncertainty that melded together with a certain longing in her dark eyes that thrilled him. He offered her an encouraging smile, and to his delight, Emily began to return it.

"I guess we'll be bumping into each other again tomorrow then."

* * *

The phone rang shrilly in the living room the next morning; vibrating loud and teetering on the edge of her coffee table as she bounded down the stairs of her two-storey apartment to get to it. Chloe walked in after her, dressed in her deep blue leotard and munching distractedly on her PopTart as she watched Emily press the phone to her ear. She wrinkled her nose crankily; it was too early in the morning to be awake, but the girl was significantly more subdued than she was usually.

Mostly because of what they would be doing _after _her gymnastics.

"Took you long enough," she heard Emily drawl, and she watched as her mother pulled the apartment door open, smiling a wry greeting at the lanky man standing there and curling her mouth deeper into a smirk at his dramatic eye roll at being told to wait. "It's always a pleasure to see you too, Clyde."

The tall Englishman smiled wryly at her, leaning heavily on the doorframe as he snapped his phone shut and stuffed it back into his pocket, eyeing Emily appraisingly as she turned back to Chloe and bent over to brush her daughter's hair into a neat bun. "Terribly sorry for the delay, darling. Traffic was murder uptown," he told them, grinning at the girl as she beamed up at him around her PopTart.

"Hello, _tesoro_."

"Papa!" Chloe leapt out of her seat, throwing herself into her father's arms once Emily had released her. She hugged him tight, giggling happily as he swept her into a spin, pressing a kiss to her face. She pulled back, stuffing the leftover of her PopTart into Clyde's grinning mouth. "I miss you, Papa!"

Clyde laughed as he pressed another adoring kiss to his daughter's cheek, chewing the breakfast snack as they shared matching grins. "I've missed you too, blessed precious. More than you know." It was a miracle that he was even in the States; honestly it was a miracle he was alive at the moment, but that was something Emily didn't need to know, and especially not Chloe.

All he wanted to do was spend time with his darling little girl.

"We're going to the museum after lunch, so could you please maybe bring her back before that?" Emily told him as she handed him Chloe's bag, brushing her hair away from her face as she regarded Clyde's confused face.

"We gonna go see dinosaurs, Papa!" Chloe exclaimed happily as Clyde took her hand.

Clyde smiled at her, and raised an intrigued eyebrow at Chloe's mother. "Usually Sundays with Papa around is your day off, Emily," he remarked curiously, smirking teasingly at the woman when she huffingly rolled her eyes at him; the blush was clear though. "Ooh, is this a man?"

"You're late," Emily said instead, pressing a kiss to Chloe's cheek and patting Clyde none too gently on the cheek. "Be nice for Papa, and Clyde _don't _get her ice-cream before lunch!" She cast a firm glare at them both. The last thing she needed was Chloe hopped up on sugar before their get-together with Hotch.

"Aw, Mama," they whined together, but scurried out before Emily reached for her gun.

Clyde chuckled as he lifted Chloe into his arms, ambling down the street with his giggling daughter. "What's got Mummy's knickers in a bunch, lovely? Hmm?" He jostled her playfully, pressing his forehead to hers with a quirky grin. "Did you put a crayon into the washer again?"

Chloe shook her head. "Uh-uh, Papa. She's happy 'cause we gonna see Hotch and Jack-Jack later and see dinosaurs together!" she told him eagerly, wriggling in her carseat as Clyde leaned over to buckle her in.

The man paused, pulling back to regard the girl as the name churned in his mind and a face came to the forefront. He raised an eyebrow slowly. "What do you know about Agent Hotchner, _tesoro_?"

_And what is he doing spending time with Mama and __**you**__?_

The girl shrugged. "He can cook, and he smells nice, aaaand he makes Mama smile and laugh lots." She cuddled into her seat, hugging Papa's scarf close to keep the smell of him around her. "Oh, and he's got a little boy too! Jack-Jack!" She beamed at her father.

"I like playing with Jack-Jack," she announced, and Clyde smiled at her distractedly.

"So it is a man," he murmured, shutting the back seat door and pulling the driver's side open. "Well then. Come on, darling - how about we skip the acrobatics today and we sit somewhere for breakfast and you can tell Papa all about what you did with Jack and Agent Hotchner."

* * *

**We'll see if Clyde doesn't come say 'hello' to Hotch too.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Filler chap of sorts. I had planned to have more about them having lunch and then to the museum in this chapter, but I am so dizzy and tired right now I was so close to having Chloe swear.**

**Remember now that she's five.**

* * *

"So, tell your Papa what is it that you did with Agent Hotchner and his little boy yesterday."

Chloe sat in a diner booth with Clyde, munching happily on her short stack of chocolate chip pancakes. They settled into the quaint little diner around the corner down the street where Clyde usually took her for breakfast whenever he was capable; a friendly and familiar young waitress topped off his coffee and her apple juice as they sat in the far corner away from the morning crowd. Chloe beamed up thankfully at the girl, mumbling her thanks around her full mouth.

The uniformed young woman chuckled at her and winked. "Always a pleasure for you, Miss Chloe."

Clyde cast a charming smile her way, which never failed to have the women around him blushing prettily. He turned his attention back to his daughter then, peering at her face with interest as she mopped up the rest of the maple syrup on her plate with a slice of her pancake. "Come on, darling," he cajoled her. "The pancakes will still be there if you took a moment to breathe."

He chuckled inwardly when she rolled her eyes at him - ah, how he forgot just how much Chloe took after her mother. Emily would be smirking with pride if she knew.

"I told you already, Papa," Chloe said, licking at the dribbling golden syrup that fell from her fork. "Mama and I had ice-cream at the park with them. And then I went nap with Jack-Jack, and then we ate food." She shot her father a look. "I _told _you this in the car."

Honestly, grown-ups were so fickle-minded. Papa was getting old, if he couldn't remember that!

Clyde nodded his head agreeably, but persisted still. He was an unflappable charmer; the day he couldn't get what he wanted out of his own daughter was the day he ended his career. "You know I need more than that, lovely. Talk to me about Agent Hotchner - what's he like with you and Mama? Does he put his hands on your mother?"

"He's nice," Chloe stated simply, and stabbed another piece of pancake. Meticulous as the man was, Clyde had sliced her pancakes into perfect triangles to her pleasure, and the girl eyed one hungrily before stuffing it into her mouth. It was only then that Clyde winced at the amount of syrup dripping out of her mouth.

It wasn't ice-cream, but he was rather certain Emily wouldn't appreciate him returning their daughter to her as she tripped on sugar like a crackhead.

Clyde glared at her venomlessly. "You're too much like Mama, aren't you, _tesoro_." Heaving a dramatic sigh, the man leaned forward on the diner table, turning his coffee mug this way and that before sipping at the dark liquid. It was bitter on his tongue and bitter on the way down, but he was English and that was how he liked it. "Alright, Chloe, I'll bite. _Why _won't you tell Papa about what Mama and Agent Hotchner did?"

"Did Mama tell you not to?" He raised an eyebrow at the girl, frowning when she shook her head. "Did _Agent Hotchner _tell you not to?" Though neither of them had ever truly acquainted themselves face-to-face, Clyde had heard stories from Emily every so often - and had no doubt that Hotch had heard the same about him.

Although, Clyde thought as he reached over to wipe Chloe's mouth. _If you think you can turn my own daughter against me, Agent Hotchner, you are sorely mistaken._

Though to his surprise, Chloe rolled her eyes at him again. "They didn't tell me anything, Papa!" she exclaimed, and pushed her empty plate away from her. She folded her arms over her chest, pouting under Clyde's scarf and her favorite green pullover. It was beyond her why Papa was acting as if Hotch was the same kind of bad men he and Mama went hunting for. There was nothing about the man that was evil, and Chloe could tell.

She was, after all, the child of a profiler and an Interpol agent.

"Why do you wanna know anyway?" she demanded petulantly, leaning back into the booth as she glared at her father suspiciously. "Are you making mean things to do at Hotch and Jack-Jack? 'Cause you're not allowed to hurt my friends, Papa, you know that." The reminder was sharp and pointed; the same tone that Emily used at her when she needed reminding of when she 'forgot' to brush her teeth or when Chloe was called to the Principal's office.

"And when did 'Hotch' and Jack become such darling friends of yours, hmm?" he countered curiously, and though he shot his daughter a mischievous smile, Clyde was decidedly not pleased with the knowledge of Emily's supervisor spending such…intimate moments with his daughter.

…and perhaps with Emily too, but that was something kept mostly to himself.

"I promise you I'll not harm them in any way, darling," he assured Chloe, shrugging innocently. "'Tis merely my unbridled curiosity that yearns to be fulfilled." The Englishman grinned at the way she wrinkled her nose - she did so hate it when he spoke circles around her. Like Emily, Chloe had very little patience with his lilting, coy English way with words. "Can I not worry for my precious little treasure?"

Chloe regarded her father for a long moment, eyeing him flatly quite like Emily, before she heaved a mountainous sigh. "What do you wanna know?"

* * *

By the time Clyde knocked on Emily's door, the woman was dressed in a long, flattering bohemian print dress. He shared a sheepish look with Chloe as he stepped across the threshold of the apartment. Smiling beguilingly, he addressed the woman. "Hello, darling."

"Clyde," she greeted him coolly, eyeing the man suspiciously as he lowered Chloe to her feet. Unbeknownst to the woman though, Clyde was a smart man, and prided himself for his ingenuity in times of pressure. By now, Chloe easily resembled her usual self after her lessons - he's taken her to a nearby park and run the laps with her to sweat the sugar out of her system.

And then he cheered and praised her lovingly in Italian as she performed her gymnastics routine for him in the middle of the park. She attracted a small crowd of adoring fans, and Clyde attracted a small crowd of eager Mommies-at-play. It was an interesting morning of heaving bosoms and clinging women, but Clyde and Chloe had come to a mutual agreement that Mama should never hear about their day together.

"Hi Mama." Chloe waved from her father's side resting her head on Clyde's jean-clad leg as she nuzzled into the material. She was rather subdued from her escapades with Papa; she could run fast, and sometimes running made her sleepier than the sugar made her happy. It was just as well that she didn't go to class - her cast would've had her doing mostly splits and leg work anyway.

Emily smiled quietly at her daughter, stepping towards them as Clyde handed her Chloe's backpack. "She looks exhausted," she stated, glancing sharply at Clyde when the man shrugged innocently.

Brushing back Chloe's thick hair, now free from the tightly drawn bun and pulled instead into a rather haphazard braid by the Englishman, Clyde pulled her close. "The poor thing had extra weight to carry." He lifted her cast in emphasis, and then turned to Chloe with a sad, wistful smile.

Clyde bent on a knee then, pulling the girl tight and pressing a kiss into her hair as Chloe threw her arm awkwardly around his neck. "Be good for Mama, _tesoro_, and I'll see you soon," he whispered to her, tugging her braid affectionately. When he pulled back, his bright eyes were warm and loving, if a little wistful. "_Quanto ti amo Papa, tesoro?"_

"_Ti amo molto molto, Papa!" _Chloe replied happily, and Clyde chuckled fondly before nudging the girl away, slapping her across her behind as she squealed and reluctantly moved to her mother's side. Pressed into Emily's leg, Chloe stared at Clyde beseechingly. "Can't you stay for longer, Papa?"

Emily and Clyde shared a grim look, and slowly the man shook his head apologetically. "I'm sorry, darling, but you know Papa has to go," he told her quietly, and his bright eyes regarded her with a wistful affection. "You know I'd give anything to be with you always, _tesoro_, but alas - such is life."

The girl heaved a giant, sad sigh, but Clyde kissed it away and rubbed his grizzled chin across her cheek to the girl's squealing protest. Chloe giggled as she pulled away, and the girl cupped her father's cheek with a smile. "Bye, Papa. _Ti amo molto molto_." She pressed a kiss to his cheek so sweetly it killed Clyde inside a little, but Chloe was none the wiser.

Emily touched her shoulder gently, smiling down at the girl as she looked up her mother. "Go on and go potty before we go. I don't want you whining about the bathrooms not being clean at the museum," she told the girl, nudging Chloe along. When Chloe disappeared down the hall, Emily turned back to Clyde seriously.

"Where'd you take her?" she demanded, and the man sputtered indignantly for a moment until she cast a dangerous glare at him, and Clyde sighed in defeat.

The woman always was too perceptive for her own good.

"I took her to breakfast," he told the woman simply, raising an eyebrow in a challenge when Emily sighed disapprovingly. "Is it so entirely horrible to you that I decided to spend time with my daughter rather than watch her attempt at breaking her other arm? In a class she has no business attending with that cast still on her arm, mind you."

Emily huffed, folding her arms defensively. "She gets restless when she sits around at home, you know that." The indignant anger was fleeting though, and Emily sighed as she made shooing motions with her hands at the man. "Thank you, Clyde. You know how much she loves spending time with you, but we have to go or we'll be late."

Immediately the man was focused on the woman, raising an eyebrow curiously at Emily as she began to nudge him towards the door. "Late for what, Emily?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively, mouth curving into a feline smile when the woman flushed. "You wouldn't dress so prettily for a room full of fossilized dinosaur remains - surely this must be a man you're hoping to impress." When Emily narrowed her eyes at him, Clyde's smile only brightened deviously.

"He must be an exceptional man, if you're already introducing him to Chloe."

"It's none of your business," she growled, and shoved him through the doorway. Clyde was fast though and clung to the doorframe, peering at Emily over his shoulder before turning to face her fully.

Though his eyes were playful and teasing still, his words held more weight than a simple jest."I only ask because I worry for you, Emily. I'm perfectly entitled to be concerned for you and Chloe." He smiled, and it was somewhat of a self-deprecating smile. "Don't forget, darling - it wasn't that long ago that I too had been ensnared by your web of perfection."

Emily scoffed, rolling her eyes at the man's words, though she was unable to keep her cheeks from flaming pink. They never talked about how Chloe was conceived, or what they would do after she was born - Emily had never once considered delving into a relationship with Clyde; things were much too complicated as they were already.

Still though; sometimes Clyde liked to remind her what a charming bastard he could be.

It was, after all, how Chloe was conceived.

"And what, exactly are you worried about?" she retorted, brow arched high on her forehead.

Clyde grinned, and it was the same look on his face that Chloe had whenever she knew she was irritating her mother. "My concern is simple, darling - your knickers stay on, and his hands stay out of them."

"_Don't _make me punch you in the mouth, Clyde Easter!" Burning now, Emily's cheeks flared as she stared at him with wide-eyed mortification, slapping the man across the chest as he laughed throatily and retreated out of the apartment. He bade her goodbye with a jolly wave, and was gone by the time Chloe re-emerged.

Eagerly the girl grasped her mother's hand, tugging on it excitedly as she stared up at Emily with a wide grin. "Mama, are we ready to go now?" She couldn't wait to see Jack-Jack and Hotch! They were going to have so much fun with the dinosaurs and the cave people!

Blinking briefly to relieve herself of the burning embarrassment in her cheeks, Emily spared her daughter a thin smile. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go see the boys."

* * *

They arrived at Hotch's apartment just before noon; Jack's loud and excitable voice boomed through the door to announce to his father that they'd arrived. Emily's eyes narrowed into a smile as she looked down to share an amused look with Chloe, stepping back just as the door opened to reveal the little boy's father.

Hotch broke into a pleased smile at the sight of them, eyeing Emily from top to toe out of habit. "Hi - wow." He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Emily in a dress, but the bohemian empire cut dress flattered her already beautiful figure. It made her legs seem endless, and her height statuesque.

There was nothing but perfection to her; from her pale perfect skin to the red of her mouth and the long dark lashes that framed her expressive eyes as she smiled.

Blushing slightly, he pulled the door wider, welcoming them into his home. "You made it here right on time," he told them, as Chloe bounded past him with a happy greeting before colliding into Jack with a squeal. He leaned against the door, watching with amusement for a moment before turning back to the pretty woman with a shy smile.

"Hi."

Emily smiled at him, a shy and pretty thing as she gave the man a onceover too. Like her, he was dressed casual for a day out - beige chinos and a deep blue button down that flattered his arms and chest a little too much for it to be innocent. It didn't help with the way his sleeves were bunched up over his elbows, or the way the first two buttons of his shirt were scandalously unbuttoned.

It made her stomach roil with a rising flame, hot and tight that spread across her body. It was always the same with the man - no matter where or how or when. At work, on scene, at dinner with the team; it was just easier to focus on a serial killer on the loose or when Morgan was teasing Reid across the table.

Being around Hotch was…an entirely different experience alone.

Vaguely she heard Jack giggle from somewhere near them, and she was reminded then that they _weren't _alone.

She pulled away from her decidedly inappropriately timed thoughts with a hard blink, meeting the man's curious smile with a flustered grin. "Sorry, I just - didn't think I'd ever see you in a button down without a tie and the collar choking you." It was a defense mechanism - make fun of him, quick! Before he realizes you've been gawking at his chest.

Glancing down at himself, Hotch shrugged, grabbing a pea coat a shade of dark navy and slipping it over his broad shoulders. Straightening his collar, the Unit Chief gave the woman a wink - and delighted in the way her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. "Contrary to belief, Emily, I do have a fashion sense."

He turned to the kids, grabbing Jack's Thomas the Tank Engine backpack and taking the boy's hand. "Is everyone ready?" he asked then, as Emily adjusted the strap to Chloe's turtle backpack on the girl's shoulder. He smiled down at the girl as she took her mother's hand, bouncing on her feet as she stared up eagerly at him.

"We're gonna see dinosaurs!" she exclaimed, and the man chuckled at her as he opened the door.

Guiding them through it, he rested his hand comfortably on the small of Emily's back, smiling softly at the girl. "Yes we are, sweetheart, but first - lunch."

* * *

**The Italian Clyde uses with Chloe is simple:**

**"How much do you love Papa?"**

**"I love you very very much!"**


	6. Chapter 6

**Everything about this is a filler because I am lazy.**

**And also because it's finals week.**

* * *

They found a quaint little place by the museum to sit down at; a place Hotch had remembered Emily mentioning some weeks back passingly. Word on the street was that it was a perfect place for a casual sit-down meal, and that they beignets almost Du Monde worthy - something he knew to be Emily's favorite sugar-doused pastry of all time. They'd been on a case in New Orleans then, and he remembered being hauled physically by the arm down to Café Du Monde by the pretty brunette.

As they sat with their café au lait and beignets - which Emily brought home bags of -, he had thought to himself that anything that could get that look of pure and innocent happiness on Emily's face was worth paying for the recipe even.

If it made Emily happy.

Presently though, they sat in a comfortable corner in the open air, a square table with wrought iron seats that were boosted comfortably for the children. To everyone within their sights, they were a magazine spread of the perfect family - the scandalously handsome and charming husband with his beautiful and elegant wife who had borne him two adorable children.

And what an elegant sight Emily was in her dress; the pile of curls atop her head like a Grecian goddess that accentuated the long and exquisite length of her pale neck - the red of her mouth as she smiled solely and beguilingly at the man seated across from her with their little girl at his side.

The man smiled back, a rugged and yet refined man with a jawline to envy and dimples to swoon for. His deep hazel eyes gleamed brightly at the woman, warmth and affection clear as they opened their menus respectively to peruse. He chuckled as Chloe beside him, dressed in a striped cotton playsuit who had the hair and skin and smile of her mother, leaned into his lap to regard the images of food with him.

Jack wriggled comfortably in Emily's lap, dressed in an adorable green polo shirt and chino shorts. He grinned at his father from across the table, flashing to everyone behind Hotch his irresistibly adorable dimples as he watched Chloe point out the picture of the meal she wanted. Being the age that he was, he too relied solely on the directions of the adults around him or the images within the menu, and so the boy turned his head up to peer at Emily's pretty face as she glanced through the listings idly.

"Emmy, read for me please?" he asked her sweetly, and it was all Emily could do not to simply bring him into the kitchen and have them make him his preferred meal.

The woman smiled down warmly at the boy and nodded readily, stroking his downy hair as she rested her chin on top of his head and began to read through the selections for him. "Well, we have chicken fingers, a hot dog, spaghetti and red sauce, chicken pot pie -."

The boy bounced on her lap; Emily had to bite down to keep herself from squeaking as his little butt bone dug into her thighs. She was freakishly ticklish, after all. "Pot pie! Pot pie, please!" Jack cried, and Hotch and Chloe looked up from their own quieter perusal of the menu.

The man's mouth quivered. "Jack, buddy, don't break Emmy now - we haven't even gotten to see the dinosaurs yet," he teased the boy, and his eyes narrowed mischievously when Emily glared at him over Jack's head. With his mouth twitching into a smirk, Hotch turned his dark-lashed eyes down to the girl once more, smiling quietly at her. "Have you decided yet, Chloe?"

Leaning heavily into his lap, Chloe chewed on her lip contemplatively, darting between the two choices they'd narrowed it down to before glancing at her mother over the menu. They'd struck a bargain on the drive to Hotch's - a healthy meal gave her the freedom of picking out the dessert of her choice, but the café had everything that Chloe liked.

The decision was tough, but eventually the girl beamed up at Hotch with a toothy grin. "Sp'ghetti and meatballs, please!" she told him, and Emily nodded her approval.

"Wise choice," Hotch uttered sagely, and gave the girl a winking grin as he glanced back over to Emily and Jack. There was something in his eyes then; hard to place but warmly familiar to Emily. He placed their orders as necessary – with a brief disagreement with Emily pertaining to his over consumption of coffee, and settled in comfortably in his seat as they began to chatter amongst themselves.

He teased and she riposted; she laughed and he drawled, and together the children clambered here and there on their laps to doodle on the children's menu together with their crayons. They took everything around them in stride, as if the world revolved to their pleasure and pace, as the children's happy giggles and snickering words barely broke their gazes from one another.

The band of housewives at brunch watched with unbridled envy at the way the man looked at Emily - none of them could remember the last time their husbands spared them a glance, let alone such an enamored, heated gaze of equal measures of lust and love.

Not after two kids.

"Mama, look!" Chloe said eventually, as she held up the drawing of a pirate ship painstakingly colored – though here and there the colors ran from their lines. The ship was blue and orange mostly, and Emily bit her lip to keep from grinning to widely when she saw the childish scrawl of their names at the bottom of the page.

Her eyes met her daughter's with warm pride. "It's perfect, sweetheart."

"Daddy sthee thoo!" Jack cried, as Emily pressed her face into the soft shampoo scent of his downy hair to hide the quiver of her jaw. God, he was _adorable_ - lisp and all! She remembered a time where Chloe had lisped her way through both English and French, but thankfully the girl had outgrown most of the lisp by the time she came home stateside.

Chloe handed the sheet over to the man for his perusal. They watched almost anxiously as the man hummed and hawed and ran his hand over his chin as if critiquing some form of interpretive art piece. The little boy shared a look with Chloe, nervous, but the girl simply rolled her eyes and smiled reassuringly at the boy as Hotch lowered the sheet of paper back on the table. "Don't you like it, Daddy?"

Smiling kindly, Hotch's eyes sparkled at his son from across the table, and Emily found herself sucking in a breath sharply at the way his hazel eyes gleamed. "You know I love it, buddy. It's frame-worthy," he assured his boy, and Jack settled into Emily's arms in contented relief. He let out an innocent shrug when Emily narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, and grunted laughingly as Chloe nudged him reproachfully in the side.

"You shouldna scare him like that," she chided him, and the man nodded his head somberly in regret. The girl wrinkled her nose at him, sensing his playful concession, to which the man merely smiled a deep dimple at her before prodding her in the side. "Silly bunny man."

Hotch laughed openly, much to Emily's surprise and delight; unaware of the jealous swooning he was causing from the tables around them. Her eyes brightened and her cheeks flushed, and Emily watched in amusement as the man shook his head fondly at her daughter and gave Chloe an affectionate pat on the head. "Oh, sweetheart," he sighed, chuckling in his throat when Chloe wrinkled her nose at him.

"You're certainly a breath of fresh air, aren't you." He cast an endearing smile at Emily, smiling wider when the woman flushed. "I suppose you get it from your Mama." There were many things Chloe 'got' from her Mama; he couldn't remember a time when a child took to him so easily as the young girl had. Though he was never anything short of kind and gentle with them, it was understandable for those younger than the age of thirty to think twice before approaching the man best known in the office as 'Stone-Face McThundercloud'.

All except the woman sitting across him, that is.

She was, after all, the one who'd dubbed him as such.

Emily smiled at him beatifically, fluttering her eyelashes demurely at the man when he rolled his eyes at her. "Does it surprise you that my daughter likes busting your b-a-l-l-s about as much as I do, sir?" she drawled, smirking from the corner of her mouth when Hotch narrowed his eyes at her witheringly.

"Why're you gonna break his ball, Mama?" Chloe piped up suddenly, leaning onto Hotch's lap once more as she peered over the table at her mother curiously. It struck the girl as odd that her mother would do such violent things to Hotch - first she wanted to kick him, and now she wanted to break his things! "You said breaking balls was bad!"

At least, that was what Mama had told her that time she and Papa made experiments with Mimi's croquet balls and the brick wall behind their apartment building.

The man's mouth quivered as he watched the color rise along the porcelain spanse of her chest, watching with much too heated a gaze as it flared up along her elegant neck to her high cheekbones. There was a flash of mortification in her eyes, and the man chuckled in his throat. "I'm starting to think she _really _takes after you."

Emily would've had a clever comment sitting at the tip of her tongue to respond with, had their waiter not appeared, and the kids cheered eagerly for their meal. So with an inward sigh, Emily cast one last glare Hotch's way as she planned her own revenge while serving Jack his pot pie.

_Revenge is best served __**cold**__, sir. Remember that._

* * *

The children absolutely adored the museum exhibits. Gigantic, extinct beasts the size of their apartment building with bones longer than them was a temptation not many kids could resist. Chloe was particularly enamored with the fossils of the extinct relatives of sharks and whales, though Emily had flinchingly guided her away from the megalodon replica. She shuddered at its beady eyes and jagged teeth - sharks were something Emily could do without in the world.

Meanwhile Jack had Daddy lift him higher up to see the triceratop replica better. "Daddy, ith's got thrwee harwns!" the boy cried happily, flapping his arm at the giant dinosaur's face. "Like a rhino!"

"A little bigger than a rhino, buddy, but he's pretty much it," Hotch chuckled, and lowered Jack onto the ground as Emily and Chloe joined them at his side. He shared a quiet smile with the woman before casting a grin at Chloe. "Why don't you and Jack go on ahead and go see the mammoths and sabre-tooths?" He nudged Jack forward, where the boy eagerly took Chloe's hand. "Mama and I will be right behind you."

Eager at the freedom, Chloe took the boy's hand, giving her mother one last grin before rushing ahead to the giant woolly mammoth replica just ahead of them. Glancing at Emily, Hotch gave her a shy smile, stepping in close to rest his hand comfortably on the small of her back.

"I think my son has a case of Chloe-worship," he murmured quietly, the wry smile curving his mouth as Emily smiled at him demurely and nodded her head. He slipped the kids' backpacks into his other hand, and leaned in as the crowd bustled around them with a band of rowdy children. Pressed so close to her, he could smell the perfume that had been taunting him all through the day - something earthy with a musk to it…sandalwood.

He took a discreet inhale.

Vanilla undertones to mute the spice.

It was an exquisite scent; sensual and soothing.

Quite like her.

Emily tilted her head at him, smiling fondly as she watched Chloe and Jack tiptoe around the barrier keeping them from actually clambering onto the mammoth - something she knew her daughter would do at the drop of a hat. "It's probably because he's never met a real-life incarnation of Dennis the Menace," she said drolly, and then jumped as she came upon the giant replica of a snarling velociraptor around the corner.

"It's alright," Hotch soothed her, where Emily had pressed herself into his chest, running his hand along her arm gently as he regarded the extinct beast flatly. "Dino here won't be looking for dinner any time soon."

The man gave a breathy chuckle as Emily dug her elbow into his side, glaring at him as they moved along the exhibit after the kids. "Keep being a smart-ass, and I'll feed _you _to their distant relatives - you might know him from his famous movie _Jaws_."

Grinning unrepentantly, the man dipped his fingers along her ribs, eyebrow raised as Emily squealed. "You'd need a bigger boat."


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys. Writing happy things has become the most painful thing for me to do. I just can't physically spew cute and fluffy things without my brain imploding.**

**This is not good.**

* * *

They walked the length of the exhibit at a languid pace after the children, idle though weighted conversation easily filling what limited space there was between them. He'd pulled her closer, she'd given no resistance, and together they shared a quiet but coy smile as she slipped her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'm surprised at your knowledge about fossilized lizards, sir," Emily remarked smoothly then, mirth and something darker flashing in her eyes as she stared up at the man by her side through her lashes. "I didn't take you for a paleontology man." Her mouth curved, half of a smile that was much too suggestive than it should've been allowed to be, but judging by the similar wolfish smirk on Hotch's face, he didn't mind one bit.

He shrugged slightly. "I'm a man of many talents," he uttered humbly, smirking from the corner of his mouth when Emily rolled her eyes at him. "I uncover undocumented dinosaur fossils in Egypt in my free time, didn't you know?"

Emily barked out a laugh. "'Free time'," she mocked him, as her eyes flashed at him in amusement. "I'm surprised you even know what that means. How many weeks have you got stored up for a vacation, hmm? Two months? Three?" She squealed when his fingers squeezed into her side, wriggling in his sturdy grasp to no avail.

"_Aaron_!"

Startled at the deep thrum of his name through the crowd, Hotch pulled away from Emily, searching the crowd curiously for the source. His sharp eyes fell upon a hand raised above the masses, attached to a long arm that eventually led to a familiar face grinning at him through the parting crowd as he moved towards Emily and him. Like the federal agent, the man also had his other arm wrapped rather possessively around a brunette.

The only difference though was that _his _kids were either almost at or well past puberty.

"Bruce," Hotch greeted the man warmly, though the surprise was clear. He gave the man's hand a firm shake, and promptly stepped back to regard the couple and their children curiously - if a little suspiciously. "What are you doing outside of Gotham?"

The man grinned at Hotch, winking as he pulled the woman closer to him. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man; it was clear to Emily that he could be dangerous when he needed to be, but also rather attractive - though he barely held a candle against Hotch, in her opinion. He was charming in the young, playboy sort of way; something that Emily had long put behind her in the years before she had a five year old running around. Dark hair and striking blue eyes played very well to his boyish allure, but something in his eyes told Emily something quite the opposite.

Obviously Hotch knew it too; his fingers squeezed again, but it was hardly anything playful so much as a promise of more information…later.

"Sightseeing, would you believe it," the man replied lightly, and gave Hotch a knowing smirk before gently stepping aside to introduce his family to the man. He started with the stunning brunette by his side. "Aaron, you remember Diana, don't you?"

The beguiling brunette smiled radiantly at him, accepting his hand and shaking it as her bright cerulean eyes regarded both him and Emily warmly. "Hello, Aaron," Diana greeted him; even Emily had to smother a shiver. She was tall, only about an inch or so taller than Emily, but whoa - she was _gorgeous_. There was absolutely nothing that Emily could find wrong about her, and while it should've made her horribly and seethingly jealous, Emily was surprised to find herself more enamored than anything else. "It's a pleasant surprise to see you again."

"Likewise," Hotch murmured, before pulling Emily to him. "Emily, this is Bruce Wayne and Diana Prince - now Wayne." He watched patiently as Emily and Diana shared an amiable smile and handshake, but glared at Bruce when he grasped Emily's hand and pressed his mouth to the back of it. "You've heard of Wayne, haven't you?"

Blinking out of her silent ogling of Diana Prince, Emily smirked, both at Bruce and at Hotch's rather blatant dominant tendencies rising to the surface in the presence of the rather charming man before them. "Who hasn't?" she drawled, grinning at the attractive pair. "It's harder to find a magazine cover _without _the two of you than otherwise. Wayne Enterprises practically funds our counterterrorism unit as it is."

She glanced down between their bodies - where Bruce had his arm wrapped equally possessively around Diana's slender waist, and where his left hand rested easily over hers on her hip. "Congratulations, by the way." The gleam of their matching wedding bands was difficult to ignore.

Bruce Wayne liked doing things big, and wedding rings were no exception.

She watched in amusement as the couple shared a look; Bruce grinning unrepentantly while Diana looked up at her husband with something akin to an exasperated affection and adoration. There was no doubt that they loved each other stupidly though - not even a man like Bruce Wayne could deny the softness in his eyes whenever he looked at his wife.

"Thank you," Diana replied humbly, and turned her gaze back to the couple before them. They made quite an attractive couple themselves - she couldn't remember the last she'd seen such soft porcelain skin outside of Themyscira; every other woman she'd seen was burned an unnatural orange or brown. 'Spray-tanning' was what Bruce had called it, but Diana couldn't understand why they would want to paint themselves as Harley and the Joker did.

She slid her hand gently along the younger of their two boys, placing her free hand on the shoulder of their only girl. "Aaron, these are our children; Cassandra…." The girl, perhaps about the age of twelve, offered them a small smile from under her mother's touch. She looked nothing like either of them, really, but that didn't really make a difference – Emily knew of the Wayne children; adopted and loved as well as any biological child Bruce could think of having.

Diana squeezed the boy's shoulder gently. "And this is Timothy." The boy was slightly shorter than Cassandra but about the same age, and looked more like Bruce than anything else. The tallest of the three – a boy almost the spitting image of Bruce, stood beside his father, grinning crookedly at Tim as the boy waved at Hotch and Emily awkwardly before blushing when Emily offered him a smile.

"You've met Dick, haven't you, Aaron," Bruce added, but stepped aside as his eldest son shook the couple's hands courteously. "Emily, this is Richard Grayson – my eldest boy."

Dick flashed the woman a crooked smile that made Emily suspiciously aware of the way she'd seen the exact same smile on his father's face not five minutes before. Nature vs. nurture indeed…. "Dick is fine by me," he told them, and stepped back with his siblings as Tim and Cass began to shove at each other restlessly. "I'll uh – let you four catch up a little. I know these two are dying to go see the new monster fish exhibit." At Dick's sharp timbre, the pair perked up eagerly, grinning at their parents pleadingly until finally Diana gave a graceful nod.

"Be nice," she warned after them, after they'd wished Hotch and Emily goodbye. She shared a knowing smirk with Emily as they left, shaking her head at them. "No matter how old they become, they always need the reminding."

Bruce chuckled, squeezing her waist gently. "Sibling rivalry comes in all shapes and forms, Princess. It's not something you outgrow."

Diana glanced at the arm wrapped around Emily's waist, and then the bags hanging idly in Aaron's free hand. Diana's eyes brightened, meeting Emily's gaze - where it peered off distractedly behind Aaron's shoulder towards where she could vaguely see a pair of children. "Are you here with your children?" Diana smiled warmly at Aaron. "I did not know you were married as well, Aaron."

Hotch sputtered, flushing as he began to explain to Diana their situation, but the children appeared then, and Jack pressed himself into his father's pant leg at the sight of the two unfamiliar faces. His dark eyes regarded Bruce and Diana gravely, before he reached up and began tugging impatiently at the man's hands. "Daddy, up pleasth!" he requested, wriggling as Hotch swept him up mindlessly.

"Me too, Mama," Chloe said, although the girl was significantly more subdued than the boy as she waited for her mother to lift her into her arms. "I want up too, please."

Bruce chuckled at the pair, eyeing them affectionately as Hotch and Emily straightened - each other them holding their younger counterparts. "They're a spitting image of you both, aren't they," he remarked, reaching out to ruffle Jack's hair. "You never told me you had such adorable kids, Aaron. You sly dog!"

"She has such fascinating eyes," Diana said, peering at Chloe's face curiously as the girl hid beneath her dark head of hair and nestled into her mother's shoulder. She smiled kindly, reaching out to rest a gentle hand on Chloe's back. "You have your mother's beauty, certainly."

She smiled at Emily. "How old are they?"

Emily bounced Chloe gently in her arms, smiling indulgently as the girl pressed her face into her neck and made a quiet mewling sound. Though Chloe was hardly ever shy per se, she couldn't blame the girl for second guessing herself - Diana seemed to _radiate _a strange and overwhelming sense of goodness and righteousness. "She's turning five," she told Diana, and glanced over at Jack and Hotch affectionately. "He's just turned three, hasn't he?"

"You're going to be a big boy like your Daddy, aren't you little fella?" Bruce chuckled, as Jack wriggled and beamed proudly from his father's arms. There was nothing more that he wanted than to be big and strong and brave like his Daddy - well, that and maybe a Thor hammer and helmet.

Bruce stepped back to his wife, pulling Diana into his side once more and giving Hotch a salute before flashing Emily a wink and a grin. Something chirped in his pocket, or perhaps it was Diana's - they couldn't be sure, as they both reached for their phones and sighed at what they found. Emily and Hotch shared a curious look when Bruce and Diana shared a speaking look before turning back to them.

"Well it was pleasure seeing you again, Aaron," Bruce was saying, tucking his phone aside as he shook the man's hand once more and kissed Emily's hand. "But duty calls, I'm afraid." He smiled wryly at the federal agent, and Emily swore she saw something else there in his bright eyes. "Come by the manor some time; Alfred would love to have you over."

"As will we," Diana assured them, waving affectionately at the Jack and Chloe as their own children seemed to materialize out of the air by their sides. They too seemed disappointed and grave, but were nonetheless polite as they bade Emily and Hotch goodbye once more, and disappeared back into the crowd with their parents.

Once they were gone, Emily cast a suspicious look at the man by her side. "So…I didn't know you and Bruce Wayne were buddies."

The corner of Hotch's mouth twitched as he glanced at Emily, hoisting Jack higher on his hip as they moved through the exhibit. It didn't take much for him to read between the lines of Emily's rather blatant jealousy; _I didn't know you were bosom buddies with Diana Prince – aka VHS' Hottest Woman in the World._ "Oh, we just run in some of the same circles sometimes," he explained to her casually, weaving through the crowd as a horde of tourists came bustling through. "He's an old friend from my days as a prosecutor, actually."

Emily hummed, but he knew by the sound of it and the gleam in her eyes that she was merely indulging him. "And what kind of circles would you share with a billionaire playboy, hmmm?" she drawled, flashing a grin at the man when his brow rose on his forehead.

The curve of his mouth could only be described as ominously smug. "Wouldn't you like to know, Agent Prentiss. Would you like to know."

* * *

They had just barely made the halfway mark of the gardens when the skies above them began to dim; a foreboding rumble that sounded like the drums of war came with the large and foreboding clouds of grey. Almost immediately Hotch pulled Emily into his side, wrapping his blazer around her and lifting Chloe onto his hip as he forced them into a quick jog, trying his best to beat the curtain of rain that was beginning to make its way towards them. Emily held Jack pressed in between her and his father, huddled underneath the side of Hotch's blazer just as the first lash of thunder sounded over them. She squeaked as the first bitingly cold hiss of rain touched her skin, and she turned her head deeper into the man's body as they dashed wildly across the field along with the crowd of scurrying families.

Chloe squealed as the breeze blew against her face, squinting at the sharp bite of the rain as she clawed at Hotch's shoulder. "It's cold!" she yelped, and Hotch pressed her face into his neck as they began to drown in the deluge. Surrendering all attempts at staying dry then, he wrapped his free arm around Emily's waist instead, pushing her towards the direction of his car. He yanked the backseat door open, plopping the kids inside unceremoniously before slamming the door shut and hauling himself into the front seat.

Finally safe from the blinding rain outside and panting heavily from the exertion, Hotch finally allowed himself to turn to Emily, who seemed just as winded and drenched as he was. His breath came out in an incredulous, breathless laugh as their eyes met, his hazel eyes sparkling even as the chill of the rain seeped into his skin. He grinned sheepishly at Emily as she flushed, laughing just the same as she rubbed at her bare arms vigorously to get the dampness off her skin.

He could see the goosebumps riddling her skin.

Smiling softly, Hotch glanced up into the rearview mirror, blowing out a breath as he caught sight of Jack and Chloe huddling together for warmth. Shedding his blazer hurriedly, he passed it to Emily, smiling apologetically at the woman. "Wrap them in this – they'll catch a cold as it is." He watched as she leaned over the gap between the driver's seat and hers, wrapping the kids snugly in his blazer and rubbing their arms vigorously before pulling back into her seat. His eyes softened as she tried her best to smother a shiver, even with the car on and the heater running, and felt incredibly ungentlemanly for leaving her like that.

"Em," he said softly, and the woman turned up to him with a shiver. His hazel eyes were almost tangibly warm as they stared down at her, and Emily couldn't suppress the shiver traveling down her spine when he reached over and stroked his hand along her bare arm. "Why don't you crawl up behind there with them; body heat will do you good," he suggested, and Emily conceded reluctantly, glancing at the man one last time before she clambered somewhat awkwardly between the seats and settling herself between the kids. Almost immediately they cuddled up to her, spreading the blazer out over the three of them in hopes of sharing their body warmth.

Pulling the car into drive, Hotch turned the wipers on and pulled out into the streets as carefully as he could. They needed a hot bath, all of them, but he wasn't willing to risk something happening on the street from his carelessness for it.

* * *

The rain had yet to settle when they pulled up into Hotch's apartment garage; something the man was grateful for more than anything – the indoor garage, and not the unforgiving rain, that is. Pulling into his spot, the man got out of the car and pulled the backseat door open, stumbling back when he was greeted with a barrel of limbs wrapping themselves around his body. He grunted as he lifted Jack onto his hip, rubbing his son's damp back soothingly as he reached out with his free hand and helped Emily out of the car. Chloe came next, and clung to her mother the same way Jack was doing to his father. Emily had stopped shivering for the most part, but Hotch wasn't in the slightest way reassured.

Her lips were turning a disconcerting shade of blue.

"Come on," he said then, pulling Emily into his side after clicking the lock on his car. "Let's get you into the bath before you turn any bluer – the three of you."

He ushered them into the bath – Jack and him, of course; Emily and Chloe he offered the guest bath and spare towels, which Emily accepted gratefully before disappearing into the bathroom with Chloe. He set the shower to something he thought Jack could stand, and was relieved when the boy settled into the water eagerly. He stood in the shower with his little head tilted up at the running water, letting his father scrub him down with little qualms whatsoever. He didn't even ask for bubbles or why he was getting a shower and not a bath – all he cared about was the warmth that was beginning to seep back into his bones.

Hotch too was savoring the heat as much as he could – though he wished that the temperature would be several degrees higher, he knew that his young son's sensitive skin would only allow so much liberties with the heat. Instead he settled with mustering as much warmth as he could with some vigorously scrubbing of his towel on his skin, wrapping Jack into his little yellow duck robe that came with an adorable hood. With his own towel wrapped neatly around his narrow waist, Hotch hauled Jack out of the shower and pulled the bathroom door open –

"Oh."

He blinked rapidly for a moment, both at the sight and also from the fact that most of his blood had made a very sudden and sharp jolt downwards into the lower extremities of his body. Emily stood, wide-eyed and damp before him, hugging her towel tightly to her body as she stared up at him uncertainly. Her lower lip was caught between her teeth, almost gnawed raw as the heat rose to her cheeks and painted them a rosy pink. Her eyes dropped down to his chest, and then to his towel and lingered there perhaps a beat too long before they settled on his bare feet – wherein her cheeks began to burn an even deeper shade of red.

"I don't have anything to wear," she mumbled to his toes, where she watched infatuated by the running rivulets of water moving along his muscular calves down into the small pool by his feet. "I realized after I put my dress out to dry – I don't have anything spare to put on."

It wasn't as if she'd anticipated the storm outside, although in hindsight she should've – the seasons were changing. She should've anticipated the temperamental weather.

Hotch caught himself, pulling his gawking eyes from the bare perfect pale skin of her shoulders and clavicle and offering her a soft smile of understanding. "I'll get you something to wear," he assured her, and bundled Jack in his towel and robe and ushering the boy out of the bathroom. A soft flush of heat rose to his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly at Emily, glancing down at his towel. "Ah – how about I come find you after Jack and I get decent?"

Nodding rapidly, Emily released her lower lip from between her teeth. Finally she mustered the courage to meet his gaze, and she smiled meekly at the man as he stared down at her in affectionate amusement. "Yeah, um – I'll just – I'll wait in Jack's room -."

"Here," Hotch interrupted her, nodding towards the bathroom behind him. "You can wait in my bathroom while I dress Jack." He smiled at her, scooping his son into his arms and moving towards the door. "Actually, help yourself to my dresser – you know where everything is," he told her over his shoulder, and winked at the petrified woman as she stood half-damp and covered in a towel in the middle of his bedroom floor.

"Don't worry – nothing's in the drawers below hip level; you won't need to bend over."

* * *

**But we all know she will, though.**


End file.
